Broken Pieces of an Erased Heart
by hapadoll
Summary: Punk gang leader meets prep cheerleader. World's and hearts collide, crash, break, mend, and all that good stuff. Looks are deceiving. Maybe people have more in common than looks suggest? [BN]
1. Hallmark Moments Over Jeans And Gas

_Title: Broken Pieces of an Erased Heart  
Author: Me.Brit/Dani.IslandGurl808/HapaDoll  
Pairing: Uhh, Brathan. Is there really any other kind when speaking about One Tree Hill? YOu bet your ass no! aha. Leyton, Jaley, && Chris/Rachel.  
Rating: T.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing, yeah, I don't get Mark's money, and THANK THE LORD I don't get his half-assed ideas.  
Summary: Punk gang leader meets prep cheerleader. World's and hearts collide, crash, break, mend, and all that good stuff. Looks are deceiving.  
This is an AU fic, apparently. For the most part, the characters are the same, Brooke is a little AU. _

_Nathan's nineteen, lives in downtown Wilmington, is punk, if anything, best friends with Tim, Lucas, and Jake. Brooke is seventeen, a senior, captain of the Tree Hill Ravens, best friends with Peyton, and Rachel.  
Warnings: This story deals with strong angst, as well as suicidal thoughts, self mutilation, drug and alcohol abuse, strong language, sexual situations, non consensual sex, and violence Though it is going to be a good story, I'll encourage you to read it if you don't have a problem with the above warnings. Yeah, I know, I have the same warnings for different __stories, but they apply in a few._

**Chapter One // Hallmark Moments Over Jeans And Gas **

She sat with sheer boredom.

Tapping the number two pencil on the desk she was sitting in, she candidly attempted to pay attention. Though easily lapsing back into serene thoughts of her own, as she nipped her sparkly white teeth against her black painted nails. Laughing lightly to herself, she remembered the first time Peyton had persuaded, no forced her into letting her paint her nails the dark color that she had painted hers. She felt a piece of polish chip off into her mouth, and immediately dry spat whatever she coul

d out. Feeling eyes on her, she brushed a piece of golden brown hair behind her twice pierced ears, and turned her sea green like eyes to the front of the room.

The teacher eying her pointedly, asking her if she would like to share something with the class, caused her to shift uncomfortably in the already uncomfortable seat. Shaking her head confidently, she shrugged him off, hoping that he wouldn't call her out in front of the class like he had so many times before.

She remained tapping the slightly chewed end of the pencil to the desk, peering curiously out into the hall, waiting for her best friend who was now MIA. True, she had her other friends, and the red head she called her other best friend, but they all had assigned seats at different ends of the room, opposite her. She hated sitting in her least favorite class without a partner sitting along with her in the two partner desk.

Sighing loudly, she received the teacher's glare and again ignored it with a shrug. Lifting her knees a bit, to shelter the pink razr she brought out, she texted a message to Peyton.

Waiting a while, whilst peering above her phone and started at the teacher like she was paying attention. A few seconds passed, and she heard a faint sound that signaled a texting back. Gladly smirking to herself that she remembered to lower the volume, she read it in her mind with her lips moving.

**Message**  
Hey B. Davis, I'm kinda running late today. My dad was home yesterday as u know, and I had some good news so we celebrated kinda late.

"Are you just talking to yourself or are you trying to pull the wool over my eyes Miss. Davis?" sharply asking her, Mr. Rountree snapped her out of her daze.

Hearing a few stifled and exposed laughs, she felt her cheeks heat up a bit, yet simply replying.

"Nothing, I'm just thinking out loud on the signs of schizophrenia. You should know the symptoms right?"

This time laughter that weren't bothered by muffling echoed through the room, and random comments were made back and forth between the teacher and the students.

This was a little thing the students had with Mr. Rountree. They would openly insult each other, and the students would wait to see if he would take it well or blow his top and sentence them to a two hour detention, which consisted of sitting on a chair, staring at the wall. Seriously, everyone had the inkling that he was bipolar.

"Well I guess we're in the same boat then, miss happy bubbles. No one could be that happy all the time." clearing talking it in a joking way, by the sound of his voice, playful.

Brooke smiled, and texted _ttyl_ quickly and shut her phone quietly, while unzipping her bag and placing it back in carefully.

"Bubbles?" her perfectly waxed eyebrow that matched her hair perfectly arched up, as she smirked inwardly at the new nickname.

"It's because you're always so bubbly all the time." he broke it down for her, and said it in a way that showed he would always call her that.

_Perfect._ Another nickname to be called by. Though she couldn't hate it. It was that, she only had about fourteen hundred and nine.

Turning back to the dry erase board, Mr. Rountree started talking more about the lesson in their American Government class.

Ten minutes and two pages of notes later, the classes attention turned to the light knocking on the frame of the door. Looking up from her thorough notes, she smiled brightly when she saw the bouncy haired blonde hand Mr. Rountree a yellow paper slip.

"Why are you late?" he snapped completely playfully.

"I slept in late." answered Peyton confidently, with a large smile plastered upon her face.

Making her way to her desk, she dropped her black and white bag on the ground next to her chair and sat down while smoothing out her red and white plaid skirt.

"Nice job captain obvious, I just think that bubbles is rubbing off on you." he smirked, while turning back to the board as he sat down on the chair in front of it.

"Who the hell is bubbles?" furrowing her golden blonde eyebrows with a look of utter confusion on her face.

"First of all, watch your mouth, young lady," he ordered fatherly, and pointing a red marker in her face, though he was about five feet away from her. "Secondly," he said, looking around randomly, while shifting in his seat like Brooke and everyone had done so many times. "Bubbles is Brooke's new nickname."

Brooke smiled and shrugged her shoulders and lifted her hands saying,_ I don't know._

"Bubbles," trying it out. "I like it, it suits you well." Peyton nodded.

"I know." smirked Mr. Rountree, like he knew he was right, and liked it.

"I have too many damn nicknames." groaned a squirming Brooke.

"First of all, the word Peyton just said that is a synonym for heck, was strike one for you two. Secondly, that word you just said and don't you make me remind what that was _bubbles_," saying the last part sternly when she opened her mouth. "that is strike two for you two powerpuff girls, and if the third says any other swear word or _H _bomb, or any kind of negative crap, that's strike three." he looked at the red head in the back of the room.

Rachel lifted her head from her paper attentively. "You kind of just said _crap_." she had pointed out.

"Yeah well, I have authority and you don't," he laughed. "Deal with it carrot cake." her nickname, referring to the fact that she was a read head. "Besides, you just said _crap_ and that was strike two point five, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

"Gee thanks." Rachel said.

Turning his back towards the students gave Brooke and Peyton a chance to talk.

"So P. Sawyer, tell me what is up with you?"

"Nothing's up Brooke."

"Oh come on please, you tried and failed to hide your secret. Well that and you said that you had good news."

"Okay, well I got an internship at Sassy magazine to be their illustrator."

"OMG!" she squealed a little too loudly.

"Strike two point seven!" their teacher threatened, not very intimidating from across the room.

Rolling her eyes, she tugged on Peyton's black streaked blonde curls and forced her to get back to paying attention to her.

Peyton groaned, trying to give an effort to pay attention. "Brooke, I'm really trying to pay attention here."

"Why?" she scoffed.

"Because that's what we are supposed to do." she whispered, while trying to keep her eyes focused forward.

Fixing her top to fit her perfectly, she stretched her upper body, turning to face Peyton as fully as she could, while still facing forward.

"So, when have we ever actually done what we were supposed to?" challenged a talkative Brooke.

"Whatever, Peyton, anyway. An internship? That's so _friggin'_ awesome bestest friend. I'm so proud and happy for you."

"It's not that big of a deal." she insisted, though she was hiding her true feelings well.

"Hell yeah it is, this is something that you truly want, you got it."

"I didn't get it yet Brooke." complied an insistent Peyton, as she pulled a piece of folder paper from Brooke's binder.

"Hello? You're Peyton Elizabeth Sawyer, you're as good as gold." patting her arm through the brown leather jacket.

Feeling something hit her on the back of her head, Brooke turned around and looked at her antsy best friend who could never wait for details. The brunette found herself sighing, and leaning over to pick up the crumpled piece of black paper and clicked her sharpie to write something in it. When she finished, she crumpled it back up and chucked it back to Rachel, _luckily_ the same time Mr. Rountree turned around.

"Strike three! One hour detention."

"What? That's fucked up." immediately covering her mouth as the words spilled out.

"What?" he stated loudly as he got in her face, "That's two!" and had the rest of the class looking in her direction.

"That's really harsh you know." Peyton added.

"You want to join her?" he asked in a stern voice as he made his way over to Rachel and grabbed the piece of paper from her hands, before she could have a chance to read it.

Rolling her eyes, Brooke went back to taking notes, Peyton shut her mouth and had her eyes pasted to the board, and Rachel flipped her book to the right page.

Detention.

Detention for two hours was going to be absolutely fun.

Amazing.

When class was finished, they had four minutes to get to their next class, and Peyton walked up to Brooke from behind.

"Brooke," she whined. "why couldn't you wait until tomorrow to get detention?"

"Why?" she asked slowly.

"Because my car is out of commission due to a flat tire, and Rachel doesn't have a car."

"So you were hoping that I would give you a ride." Brooke said, more as a statement than anything else.

Peyton gave her best friend a shy smile, and replied, "Yes. And my interview starts at five which is just enough time to get there from school."

"Well how did you even get here?" they kept up with walking.

Peyton stopped at her locker, and fumbled with the lock to open when Mouth walked up to them. He slammed his hand against the locker next to hers to get it to open, when it popped open, she smiled graciously.

"Whoa, nice job Mouth the Mighty." hugging her books close to her tight black camisole, Brooke smirked wildly, and wickedly.

"Yeah, thanks mouth. You use those muscles." said Peyton, admiring him for helping her.

He laughed, "No problem, I've seen the bigger guys do it before, I thought it would work."

"Well that it did." the blonde agreed, watching him smile nervously, which he tended to do.

Gathering up her books with a precarious attitude, she put her other ones in, and closed it loosely.

The three of them had the next class together, and continued walking down the hallway together with linked arms.

"The things I do for you girls."

Both smiled, and tickled his sides so he started giggling with a low chuckle.

"Oh, come one Mouth, you know you love us. By the way, guess what? I'll tell ya, Peyton's-" she was cut off by Rachel who bounded up behind them as they all stood in the doorway of their Latin II class.

"Hi ho, and ho, and pimp." Rachel said, adding to their group on her very own.

They moved into the classroom slowly, and each took a random seat in a random place. Rachel sitting in the teacher's chair, as mouth sat on the desk, and Brooke and Peyton sat on the top of desks in the front of the class. This is how it always was, the flighty teacher always seemed to forget that time didn't wait for her, or that she even had a class to teach. Though that was fine for them, waiting in the classroom or the hallway just the four of them, talking. Not many kids signed up for this class, it wasn't mandatory, and even if it was, they'd easily choose another language. (this is how my spanish class was...fun fun fun!)

"So what were we talking about?" Rachel asked, as she leaned back in the black recliner and set her heel strapped feet on the desk near Mouth.

Peyton's stomach gurgled with a low growl, and she was sure every one else could hear it. "Anyone have any food? I'm hungry."

"Oh yeah, I-" jumping up as Rachel spoke, to look in her bag which was tossed to her right.

"Would everyone please stop cutting me off!" Brooke raised her hands while shoving a sandwich she found in her bag into Peyton's hands. "Here, now stuff your face and shut up."

"You're the one who just _had_ to get detention on the most important day of my life." Peyton groaned out loud.

She said, opening the plastic wrapper covering the peanut butter and jelly sandwich and took a big bite hungrily.

Brooke opened her mouth with an excited expression, before Mouth interrupted her, again.

"Ooh, It's peanut butter jelly time, peanut butter jelly ti-"

The second Brooke shot him a deadly glare, he shut his mouth, as did Rachel and Peyton who had joined in.

"Don't even try to do that, you did that the last time I brought that to school." she warned, while pulling her skirt down to rest lower on her hips.

"Oh Brooke, come on." Peyton said.

"Peyton, would you just shut up so I can boast about you?"

"Boast." Mouth said, he made the face that looks like he's trying to act confused but knows exactly what's going on.

"Yeah, this from the girl who told her to shut up." Rachel mocked. Peyton swallowed, before she waited to join in.

"And stuff my face." she pointed out, as Rachel pointed to her in a silent way to say 'ah.'

"Just be quiet please."

Everyone held their hands up or nodded their heads to say that she could continue.

"Thank you," she grabbed the sandwich from Peyton's hands and took a bite herself. "Now," she said, while handing her back the sandwich without looking at her, and felt Peyton take it from her hands. While dusting off her hands for crumbs, she continued on. "missy blonde girl here has an important interview with Sassy magazine to be an intern."

Both Mouth and Rachel looked happy and surprised, neither of them thought that Peyton would actually send her sketches into Sassy magazine when she didn't even think she was good enough for Thud. Though they knew that she was awesome.

"Sweet, Rachel's so proud of you." she always loved talking about herself in the third person.

"Yeah Pey, so am I, that's awesome." Mouth said.

"Why thank you."

"I think this deserves a toast." he bounced off of the desk, and Mouth ran a hand through his hair as he made his way to the door.

"We don't have anything to toast to." Brooke pointed out.

Rachel leaned further back into the chair, trying her best to relax and added something, right after Peyton.

"That's okay Mouth."

Rachel said, "Plus, you don't want to be caught by someone. We're not allowed to use the machines or go to the cafeteria during classes." putting her hands behind her head to cradle it.

"Well what point is having a class with no teacher and so close?" a different Mouth appeared from their usual nervous and unsure friend.

"Whoa, since when has Mouth been the daredevil?" gaped a shocked looking Peyton.

"You go Mouthy boy, I've taught you well." Brooke smiled widely.

Hearing him laugh, they turned back to each other and went back to their conversation of congratulating Peyton.

Peyton said, "Thanks you guys, but I still have yet to be interviewed. Plus, I have to think about how to get there now."

"What about your car?" asked Rachel, who tried to help.

"Flat tire."

"Then how did you get to school?"

"Her daddy dropped her off." Brooke popped a piece of gum into her mouth.

"So you did pay attention." smiled Peyton.

"Of course I did, I always pay attention to you." Brooke said, smiling.

"Whatever you need to believe." rolling her eyes, Peyton ran her hands through her hair, to push it back to cascade down on one side of her head.

"Goldielocks is hostile that I can't give her a lift." Peyton rolled her eyes.

"Oh, that's right, you got yourself landed in detention." Rachel started, as she fumbled with the things in and on the desk she occupied herself at. "Hey, that reminds me, I'm going to need a ride home too."

Brooke waved her hands around, for no apparent reason, before adding, "You can either wait around for me for two hours or take the bus. Besides you two make it sound like I wanted detention." she said, as she chewed on another piece of gum.

Rachel shrugged, as Peyton leaned back so she was practically laying on the desk propping herself up with her elbows.

"Whatever, you can take the bus with me Peyton, keep me some company."

Brooke looked like a lost little girl, hoping that her best friends wouldn't just abandon her. Wouldn't someone wait with her?

"I can't, it's an hour drive. It'll take forever, I might as well just stay with Brooke and have a chance of getting their earlier." Peyton said.

Brooke smiled triumphantly and batted her long black lashes. At least _Peyton_ is loyal.

"So basically you're screwed either way, you'll be late no matter what." Rachel pointed out. "Unless..." starting to drift off, the blonde looked at her as propped herself up even higher.

"Unless what?" asked a suddenly quieted Peyton.

"Unless bubbles lets us take her car and then she can take the bus." Rachel suggested slowly. Trying to see how she would take it.

"You have got to be kidding me, number one, you are not touching my car, either one of you, and two I am not taking the bus. They're full of creepy old dudes that sit right next to you and fall asleep on your shoulder when there's like every other seat open." she cringed.

"Well Peyton can pick you up." suggested the fiery haired young girl.

"Oh yeah that's so nice of you to offer to pick me up with my own car."

"You guys, it takes one hour to get there, the interview will probably last for an hour, and then an hour to get back. So Brooke will just have to wait an hour anyway. Look, I'll just call them and explain this or make up a more convincing story, and I'm sure they'll understand." Peyton said.

"No! You are not not going." Brooke's eyes looked up to the ceiling like she was trying to do math in her head.

"I didn't mean that." said Peyton, finishing off the sandwich. "Oh, you didn't want that did you?"

"No, no that's fine. It's not like I actually eat during lunch or anything."

"Sorry." piped Peyton, taking a shot, and threw the wrapping away in the trash can which was small and idle at the opposite side of the room.

Brooke put her hands up like she had always done when she wanted someone to go on no more and forget about it.

Brooke smiled. "Nice shot." the basketball player in her coming out with the compliment.

"I know." joked a confident Peyton.

"So you were saying." Brooke commented.

Sitting crossed legged on the front of the desk, Brooke put her and Peyton's books and bags in the seat so her weight wouldn't tip it over backwards. She learned her lesson the hard way last time, literally.

Peyton sighed, "I'll just ask them if they can push it back three hours."

"So we get there at eight?"

Rachel slapped a smug grin on her face, before correcting Brooke's math. "Seven, and _you're_ the one in Calculus?"

"At least I do my homework." Brooke grinned cheekily, while twirling a pencil between her forefinger, and thumb idly.

Rolling her eyes, Rachel added, "Whatever. So Peyton's interview should last till eight, and then if you pick her up from Tree Hill you'll be there at nine and back at ten, or there at eight and back at nine if you stay in Wilmington for an hour."

"If I go back to Tree Hill then an hour will already be up, so then I have to go back as soon as I got there, so that just defeats the purpose and gas. I'll just stay in Wilmington, at night. That'll be fun, and not to mention safe. If I survive you better worship the ground I walk on from then on P. Sawyer." said a dreading Brooke. She could already feel the migraine coming on.

"You have my utmost gratitude." she did a curtsy.

Peyton pulled her hair into a ponytail and walked over to where Rachel was reclining, and rummaged through the drawers herself, to find a dry erase marker. She smiled brightly when she found a pink one.

"Well that's rare isn't it?" asked Rachel.

"Why doesn't Miss. DuPonte use this if she has it?" Peyton said.

"Who the hell understands that woman, she doesn't even understand her." said Brooke.

Brooke started playing with the broke hem of her skirt, and looked up at Rachel who was smirking at her, and Peyton who brought out a black marker as well.

Pink and Black.

_She's gonna turn the board into punk central._

Brookes smiled, "Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked Rachel.

"Is little 'I'm gonna kick everyone's $$' Brooke Davis, aka 'Bubbles' scared of Wilmington North Carolina?" she snickered, purely out of sheer teasing.

"Well I'm sorry if I don't want to make my television debut on the six 'o' clock news." Brooke sneered, with an extra snap to her voice.

"It's not that scary." fought Rachel.

Brooke remembered something, using it to her benefit. "You lived there for like a year, and in a gated community."

"Okay, well that is _so_ beyond the point. Besides, what are the odds that you'll run into one of the gangs down there on one trip? And they leave you alone if you leave them alone. They might cause trouble to the other gangs, but not to an innocent bystander. The ones in Charlotte might, but not the Wilmington gangs."

"Do I wanna know why and how you know all about these gangs?"

"Like I said before, I used to live there."

"No, you didn't say that. I did." Brooke corrected with a wave of a pointer finger.

"Whatever, anyways as I was saying before I was so _rudely_ interrupted." she cleared her throat, and grabbed a stapler, examining it. "I used to live there so you're kinda exposed to that, no matter where you are. Well that and my older brother is kinda involved with one."

Brooke asked, "Which one?" she leaned forward, listening intently.

"What does it matter, it not like you're going to run into one."

"Just wanna know."

"The Kings." said Rachel, finishing off the end of the sentence like the last bit of polished nail.

"The Kings." repeated Brooke, looking off into nothing.

"Yeah, but just because they don't 'cause' trouble doesn't mean that they aren't dangerous. They're probably the most notorious gang in North Carolina. Hell probably the most notorious gang from here to New York."

"I think I heard of them." said Brooke. "And the Bloods and Crips."

"I fucking hate the Bloods." Rachel whispered.

"Why?"

"Because they murdered my dad, that's why my brother joined the Kings."

"Because the Kings hate the Bloods." Brooke whispered.

"Yeah." she sighed, tears welling up in her cappuccino colored eyes. "Where the hell is Mouth!" she laughed, wiping the tears away that ran down her soft cheeks.

Her attempt at changing the subject only worked because Peyton and Brooke knew she didn't want to talk about it anymore. Peyton just whispered a muffled 'I'm sorry.' and Brooke rubbed her arms comfortingly for a few seconds, before going back to what they were doing so she wouldn't be forced to be reminded of the pain.

Mouth was at the cafeteria, trying to get anything to drink. Though the machines were not cooperating. He had been trying to smack the drinks out of the machine for a while, though sadly not succeeding. He had trying shaking it with all the muscle he could muster, although the sign on the side strictly prohibited it. It began rocking back and forth, doing everything but giving him back his money or giving him a drink. This was the second machine that had done this to him since he got there. He wasn't going to just move on and try another machine like he had done with the first one. And there was no way he could ask a teacher or an office worker, he's get into trouble for even being here in the first place.

"You'd think with all the money this school has to buy teachers Benz's, they'd at least update the soda machine's once a decade." he heard a soft voice behind him.

Turning around, his chocolate eyes caught gaze with the two most beautiful emerald eyes he had ever seen. Her blonde hair was up in a bun, and the stray pieces of silky strands fell to her face as the soft breeze that had been allowed in by the open doors. Pushing them back, she gave a wide smile, showing nothing but teeth. He thought she looked honest and sweet.

"Yeah, why are you down here? I mean, you're Erica Marsh, the smartest girl in our grade. I wouldn't have thought that you would be—" being cut off by Erica, she smiled at him.

"You thought that I would be nothing but a bookworm with my nose always buried in a book." she stated, looking down at the floor.

Her silky blonde hair fell yet again to her face, and she never lost her smile. Though she hated it when people thought that there was nothing to Erica Marsh but a pretty face and a future rocket scientist. Well not literally, but she was practically capable of finding a cure for cancer if given the time and equipment. She wanted to be like Brooke Davis, the one who was beautiful, smart, and popular. Not many people knew that Brooke was just as much of a brain as she was.

"No, I just thought that you were one of those completely dedicated people."

"Yeah, completely dedicated to schoolwork and nothing but schoolwork."

"It's an admirable quality."

"Really?" she reached over behind him.

"I wish I could be like that."

Erica smiled, watching him. "Thanks."

"What are you doing?" he looked behind him, but the machine was too close to his back to get a clear view.

"I am doing this." she muttered, bending down and pushing his legs apart and she heard him chuckling lowly as he tried to speak but nothing audible came out.

Beads of swear started to collect at his temple, even though she was only kneeing down for about ten seconds. When she came back up, she stood in front of hi with a fruit punch gatorade in hand.

"I think this belongs to you." she laughed as he blushed furiously.

She thought it was cute, and started laughing again as he took the drink gratefully.

"Th...thaks."

"No problem, you need anymore help?"

"Actually yeah, that would be great." he gave his million dollar smile, and looked at her moving closer to demonstrate what she did earlier.

She held down the coin ejecting button, and pressed a random button.

"So I'm guessing that you spend a lot of time down here during classes?" he put in a dollar and did started to do what she had showed him.

"You have to pick the one you want first," she said, as she held his hand back with hers. "otherwise you'll get the first random thing you pick. Then you press at least two different ones while holding down the coin eject button." she finished, walking him though it again.

He smiled, and his eyes turned daring and almost unreadable. The way Rachel had told him to look at girls to get them to melt. He laughed remembering that day. He remembered Brooke bouncing into the room and fighting with Rachel on the fact that he just be himself and see if a girl likes him for him. Though with the way her fair cheeks heated up told him that maybe Rachel was right that time. Though he definitely wasn't going to change himself anytime soon. The way she had walked right up to him in the first place showed him that she had already been attracted to him for him.

Ten minutes past, and Mouth and Erica were sitting on top of the lunch tables, and sat across of each other with their legs crossed. Talking about everything and anything that came to mind. Both ignoring the fact that they could get caught at any time now, or the fact that his friends were waiting for him, and she was MIA in her class of physics. He knew that Brooke took physics, even though it wasn't mandatory to take more than three years of science.

Erica laughed, "God, you know I really have to get back to physics. And I'm sure that you have to go back to Latin, and give your friends the gatorades." she patted her knees and he brushed himself off as he reached out his hand to help her off the table.

"Thanks." Erica said.

"Anytime."

They both smiled for about a minute, before signaling that they were about to head off into different directions. Turning around to walk away, Erica took a few steps away as she herself heard his footsteps retreating.

"Hey Mouth."

He turned around on his heel, and raised his brows.

"Yeah?"

"What are you guys celebrating?"

"Oh, Peyton just got an interview for an internship at Sassy magazine."

"For what?" she plastered on a confused look to her face.

"I don't know, Brooke didn't tell me. Though I'm guessing it was for an illustrations job."

"Wow, that's awesome. Tell her congratulations for me okay?" her sweet southern accent dripping from her voice.

"I will." he gave a warm smile and looked back to where he was heading, as did she.

"Hey Mouth." he heard from behind him again.

His heart was beating faster and faster with each increasing moment, and he hoped that she would have the nerve he didn't have.

"Yeah?" he said with a warm voice that matched his smile perfectly.

"Would you by any chance want to hang out with me later?"

"Are you kidding me? Spending time with you outside of school? I'd love to."

"Great, I'll call you. I'll tell Brooke to give you my number, I kinda got detention too." she admitted, remembering that he had told her Brooke's situation.

"You got detention? You're too beautiful and smart to get detention."

It was now her turn to blush when she felt her cheeks heating up and sensed Mouth staring at her.

"Well if Brooke can get detention than I can get detention."

They both laughed, and Mouth almost dropped the four gatorades he was holding. She smirked and finished off her root beer and tossed it in the large garbage can to her right.

"I really wish I didn't have to go." he said.

"Me either, but we've already wasted a half a class."

"It feels pretty good to be bad." he nodded, and laughed when he said this.

She shoved her hands in her pants pockets and looked at him, while admiring the way he was. The way he was so different from most of the guys. They way she had always wanted a man to be, but had given up hope.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. Though I'm still surprised we didn't get caught."

"Watch, I'm going to turn around now and get totally busted."

She laughed.

He loved hearing her voice.

She loved watching him smile.

He smiled when she laughed.

"Well then I guess we better be going."

"I guess so."

"Bye Mouth."

"Bye beautiful." she blushed furiously. "Or Erica, whichever you prefer. I was just making an observation, I hope you don't mind." she shook her head, and gave him a faint wave as she turned her back and began walking back to Physics.

He followed her lead, though in the other direction, and both of them looked back at least twice. Both at different times, and not catching the other stare into their backs.

When Mouth got back to the classroom his friends were in, it was locked. He tried his best to balance the drinks and twist the door handle open with more force than he had used before. Though it still remained jammed. He wondered why it was locked, had their teacher actually remembered the class? Had the school caught on to the fact that the teacher constantly forgot about classes? He started to panic, and placed the drinks down lightly on the ground. Still attempting to twist the handle open, he had yet succeeded. Now he started to knock on the door, no response. He shoved his hands into his pockets for a second and turned back to the repulsive door in front of him. Suddenly, he heard giggling. What the hell is going on in there? Screw it. He decided that it couldn't cause too much harm to try and break down one door. He backed up and came back forcefully sideways with his shoulder used as the door prier. All of a sudden, the door opened slightly, and before he knew what was happening, he found himself flying through the now open door and falling straight into Brooke's arms.

"Aw Mouth, I love you too." she cooed.

Peyton brought our her Nextel, which Brooke hated with a passion. That annoying little chirp would not die. And even if it could, she had no idea how to make that dream happen. And Peyton sure as hell wasn't going to tell her. Peyton snapped a picture of Brooke smiling satisfyingly and Mouth looking confused and scared that his friends had found a stash of weed and started burning.

Peyton smiled, and laughed before she opened her mouth to say something, "You looked so handsome Mouth."

Rachel smirked, "Very suave." she agreed.

"Very heavy, get off of me!" yelled Brooke.

"Brooke, shut up the doors wide open." Rachel said, using her hand as a demonstration.

**He'snotdead...he'selectroencephalographicallychallenged.** **He'snotdead...he'selectroencephalographicallychallenged.**

"Well Brooke you were the one who made me fall, and how did you know that I was coming?" Mouth was now bending down to pick up the four different flavors of gatorade and handed the fruit punch to Brooke.

"Well because I opened the door to look for you, and luckily I found you. Though you didn't see me. You looked like you were floating. Were you taking shrooms?" asked Brooke, pretending that she was a mom.

"Yeah Mouth, why were taking so long?" asked Rachel.

"Awe come on guys, leave him alone." ordered a serious Peyton as she grabbed his left arm and dragged him with her. "Mouth has been bitten by the love bug."

"Wasn't that a car in a fifties cartoon?" Brooke asked, closing the door.

Peyton grabbed an orange flavored drink from him, and he gave Rachel a cool blue and opened the fierce berry himself.

"I don't know, but that's besides the point. Aww, who is it?" Peyton added.

"Let me guess, give me your head." Brooke said.

He raised an eyebrow and looked more confused than he ever had in his entire life.

_"_Give me your head."

"Oh God, it's psycho Brooke." said Rachel.

"Shut up, I know what I'm doing."

Peyton added. "We'll see."

"I'm starting to sense a lot of negative energy." Brooke said.

Adding a lot of hand gesture for effect.

They started laughing at her sense of humor, and Mouth complied to her request or rather command, and let her feel up his head. Brooke messaged his temple and pulled onto his hair for awhile before backing up like she had seen a ghost and look straight into the eyes of an eager Mouth.

"It's Erica Marsh."

Mouth left his face in a shocked surprise, "How did you do that? That was amazing. Don't you guys think that _that_ was amazing? Am I the only one that thinks this is amazing?" he babbled. Peyton started to laugh, and Brooke gave the biggest smirk she had ever used, completely pleased with herself, and Rachel gave a look of disgust.

Rachel smirked, "_Please_, you actually believed her? She went sneaking downstairs to spy on you."

"I had to go to the bathroom." she argued.

"There are four bathrooms upstairs." Rachel pointed out.

Brooke shrugged, and took a sip from her drink.

Rachel leaned further back in her chair, and took a sip from her cool blue and felt herself starting to slip back. She felt the chair falling backwards and immediately jumped up, causing Mouth and Brooke to gasp as well. Peyton, who was back to her dry erase board drawing, turned around when she heard the metal click of the chair and gasps.

"What's going on?" asked Peyton.

"Are you okay?" said Brooke.

And Moth stood by looking concerned.

Rachel cried out, wiping at herself with her hands, "The damn drink spilled on me."

"Well at least your bodily fluid didn't spill from your head onto the floor." Mouth said.

"Brain fluid actually, or cranial fluid." said Brooke, tapping her nose.

Mouth gave her a look and made a face that almost made her spit out her drink on him.

"I'm just making it anatomically correct."

Rachel frantically moved herself to the point of vertigo, before she clarified, "No! It spilled on my crotch, I looked like I just pissed myself."

"That's gotta suck out loud." said Peyton.

Brooke scoffed, before letting out a loud laugh, "Yeah, too bad you don't have a change of clothes."

"Brooke!" she wined, as Mouth stifled a laugh.

"Rachel!" matching her tone.

"You always have a change of clothes." Rachel said.

"Yeah, for me." she pointed out, while taking a look at the damage done on Rachel's pants. "You know, I feel like a perv." she said, as she backed away.

Staring at her best friends crotch wasn't her favorite thing to do.

Though she definitely wouldn't mind Chris (Keller) spilling something on himself in her presence.

"You mean like the pervs that sit next to you one the bus?" said Peyton, twirling her hair between her fingers.

"And fall asleep on your shoulder, don't forget the repulsive shoulder thing." Mouth added.

"And all the while every other seat is open." smiled Rachel.

"Am I the only one who is freaked by that?" asked Brooke.

Silence.

"I will take that as a yes."

"But seriously Brooke, it's bad enough I have to take the bus and now I have to look like a bed wetter?" said Rachel.

Peyton piped up again, "But you're not in a bed, so you'd be more of a desk wetter."

"Yeah, that makes me feel a lot better." frowned Rachel, with a scowl towards Peyton, and a hopeful smile directed to Brooke. "Please best friend?"

"Fine."

Rachel clapped her hands together merrily and threw them up in triumph.

"Thank you so much, I love you." she continued on with the flattery.

Not that Brooke minded.

"Oh!" remembered Brooke and everyone turned to her. "Cheers!" she reminded them, and everyone lifted their drinks to drink to the fact that Peyton had gotten that interview.

"Thank you all, but it's not for sure." said Peyton.

"Stop trying to be modest, and boast!" Rachel said.

"Yeah, kind of like Rachel and I." added a smiling Brooke, concentrating on her nails more than anything.

"I wonder why I love you guys." Mouth thought out loud.

Rachel knew the answer. "Because we're hott."

"Because we're sexy." said Brooke, thinking of another adjective to closely describe them, since Rachel took hers.

"Because we're talented." said the blonde.

"No," said Brooke, "see your line is, _because we're fine_."

"Because we're fine." she agreed.

"Welcome to our side Peyton."

Mouth gaped, looking bright eyed at the blonde, "Don't leave me Peyton." he begged playfully.

They turned their attention to what Peyton was staring at, and looked to the board.

"Wow Peyton, that's amazing." he said.

It was a drawing of burning house in the middle of a lake, and an angel standing on the raft next to it with words in Latin.

"Come on Peyton, you know I can't read that. I only failed this class." whined Brooke.

"A B- is not failing." laughed Mouth.

"It is if you had all straight A's, she just flunked me because I can't pronounce for crap."

"Anyways, goldielocks, Rachel is so proud of you, and you are so getting this internship." Rachel said, while looking at the artwork.

Brooke got out her razr and snapped a picture.

"I think you should keep it up and print your name on it for the next class to admire."  
she lifted her shoulders up as she sent this suggestion Peyton's way.

"You are so in though bestest friend." Rachel gawked.

"Definitely." he agreed.

The next few hours went by slowly, and each of the four of them spent time hanging out with their other friends, and going to their classes.

Brooke dreaded as the hours went slowly, painfully by. Each minute coming dangerously closer to the end of the line. Detention with Mr. Rountree. Sitting her $$ on a 'science' chair staring at the wall while having an imaginary conversation in her head with the wall, and having her back ache like a bch. At least it wasn't a suspension. Though a part of her said to mouth off even more to him so she could get one. That would have been way more fun, because of the punishment, and the fact that she'd get to speak her mind to her crazy yet sometimes fun teacher.

But that wouldn't be good, it would look terrible on her college application, and she honestly did care way more than anyone thought she did. True she could easily get it with her daddy's money.

At lunch, they sat together on one of the huge tables that the juniors and seniors were privileged with, or the opportunity to eat off campus.

At their table sat some of their best friends. Brooke, Rachel, Peyton, Teresa, Bevin, Chris  
Skillz, Junk, Fergie, and Mouth sat in that order around the round table. Brooke and Rachel shared a lunch, taking turns taking bites. Since Peyton ate her peanut butter and jelly sandwich earlier that day.

Mouth was doing nothing but talking about Erica who was nowhere to be found at the moment, and the girls were giving him advice while the guys cracked a few jokes, and had their own conversation amongst themselves since Teresa sent them murderous glares.

When lunch finished, they had a ten minute recess period to basically do whatever they wanted to. Well not anything they wanted to, anything that pertained to the rules.

Finally at the end of the day, everyone was sweaty from P.E. and didn't shower due to the fact that they only had four minutes to get to their classes. Some showered quickly who had nearby classes, but most of them jammed themselves back into their jeans which always seemed to get tighter after the sweated.

Study hall was the last class of the day and most of the ten friends had that exact class together. Either that or P.E. In their study hall, they did nothing but play around the whole time. This was a total one eighty from Mr. Rountree's class. Brooke let out a grunt and a sigh as she remembered that she'd have to spend two hours after school staring at a wall. Staring at a wall! At least with Mr. Woolery who she was now interrogating would talk to her and they would have fun getting to know more about each other. Well Brooke would get to know more about him since she was usually the one who asked him questions. They'd always be random and irrelevant but it would always be funny. He would ask her questions sometimes, but mostly things like, 'has anyone ever told you that you're bitter?, did you get tested for ADD?, you must have been a joy to raise huh?, and what are you on?' But nothing more than the ever so popular, 'what are you doing?'

Though they loved him, and he loved them. They had always been his favorite class because he had been their Creative Writing and homeroom teacher since they were freshman and he had started his first year at teaching. He had taught them a lot about life and they had taught him a lot as well. That was the relationship he and Brooke had, they could openly insult each other and know that the other was kidding...most times.

"What's this book about?" asked Brooke.

He turned around sharply in the desk he was sitting in and looked over at her looking through his bookcase.

Mr. Woolery looked up only briefly, to say something, "It's all about cults."

"Yeah, I kinda got that when I read the cover." she showed him the words that said, 'Cults In Our Midst'.

He rolled his eyes, and looked through the many paper he had sprawled out on the desk in front of him. His knees were hitting the underneath of the front part, partly because he was six foot two and partly because these desks were made for children.

Brooke laughed as she took in the sight of him sitting down looking like an idiot. Though she stopped when she remembered that he had given into her when she had taken his seat in the large leather recliner, and refused to move.

"You asked." he said.

"I know, but I meant what is it about about cults?"

"Read the back." she turned it over and found the synopsis too long, so she placed it down and pulled her camisole down a bit so her stomach wasn't exposed. She looked over at their teacher, and Rachel and Peyton who were sitting right next to him, giving each other makeovers. He seemed trance-like with whatever was so interesting. She leaned over his shoulder and asked him what he was doing.

"I'm grading the Pre-Algebra's tests." he said in a stoic manner, he was so concentrated, he didn't even see her grab one. "Give that back now Brooke."

"I just want to see the problems, these are so easy."

Bevin looked up at Brooke through her own itinerary, speaking out of context, "Well duh Brooke, this coming from someone who was in Algebra 2 when she was a freshman." Brooke rolled her eyes, and Bevin went back to painting her nails with a shiny baby pink.

"I just want to see if I can do this."

Mr. Woolery yanked it back from her, almost giving her a paper cut.

"Of course you can, you're in Calculus." he said.

"All the more reason." she yanked it back. "I want to see if I can remember the basics."

"No," he said, yanking it back again and holding his hands firmly against the desk, pinning the papers under his hands. "you wanna look at the answers and then go tell the students."

"_Please_, I don't even like the freshmen." she fought, trying to grab hold of another.

"You want me to take back that chair that you're not even using?" threatened Mr. Woolery while staring her in the eyes.

"Whatever," she said, and went back to the book she had put down and plopped herself in the comfortable seat. Why couldn't the science chairs be like this? Then honestly she wouldn't have minded getting detention. But she guessed that was the point, make it as unenjoyable as humanly or legally possible. She knew if detention consisted of a jacuzzi, ice cream, and hand and foot waiting she's do anything to get that. Though she could have just jumped in her jacuzzi in the backyard, and ordered a maid service.

She flipped through the book, and stopped when she came to something that caught her eye.

"There's a cult named "Da Free John?" her perfectly waxed eyebrow arched. "Founded by some dude named Bubba?"

Mr. Woolery looked up and broke out in laughter, as did the rest of the class that was close enough, or was actually paying attention.

"Well, it's nice to have some laughter in my life before death row." Brooke joked.

"Oh come on bubbles, it wont be that bad." he reassured her.

"OMG does everyone know about that stupid nickname that makes me sound like a fricking fish?"

The rest of the study hall went by with Brooke finishing skimming the book, talking to Mr. Woolery, jumping in to do makeup with Peyton and Rachel, sitting down and joining Teresa and Bevin with putting on makeup, swinging on the roller recliner, drawing random classmates faces humongously (I know, not a word) on the board, and hanging out with some of the guys, talking about the new action films coming out, and telling Mr. Woolery about Peyton's internship. After he congratulated her and she spoke with him about it for a few minutes, Brooke piped in again.

Brooke slanted her eyes, and looked up through the slit corners, "Hey Pey, you called Sassy right?" referring to when Peyton said she'd call and ask if they could postpone the interview.

"Yes, at recess."

"Cool, so Rachel why don't you just come with for the ride so I can take you back to Tree Hill while Peyton's there, that way you don't have to have someone fall asleep on your shoulder-"

Rachel&&Peyton-"When every other seat is open." they said in synchronization.

"What are you guys talking about?" asked Mr. Woolery.

"Am I the only one that thinks that having some sixty year old dude perv on you, and 'fall asleep' on you is kinda creepy?" Brooke used air quotes for the emphasis of the sentence.

"Again I ask, what are you guys talking about?"

"Stop being so slow Mr. Woolery." Brooke groaned, and then shot her eyes open as he gave her a glare. "Sorry, I lied."

"You better have." he said.

"So Pipi Long Stockings," she used her childhood nickname for Rachel. "you want to?"

Rachel shifted in her seat and curled her eyelashes, and handed Peyton the MAC mascara and eyeliner.

"I thought you said that it was a waste of time and gas?" she looked into the mirror without taking her eyes off of her eyelashes.

"Well yeah, but if you want to I will." she started biting her fingernails, careful to avoid chipping off a piece of nail polish and swallowing it.

"Aww Brooke you're being so awesome to me today. First you let me borrow your jeans, which thank you again for, and you are going to waste your gas for me?" she asked, seriously touched that she had such a best friend, and Brooke laughed at the thought that this was turning into a hallmark moment over jeans and gas.

"Don't mention it." Brooke said.

"I feel so jumpy." she said again, changing the subject, the silence was deafening.

"Have you ever gotten tested?" asked Mr. Woolery.

"Eww, I do not have an STD and it's none of your-"

"I was talking about ADD." he explained and she froze up and felt her cheeks heating up.

Brooke smiled coyly, like she usually did, to hide any form of humiliation. "I totally knew that."

When the bell signaling both the end of study hall, and the end of the school day, Brooke thought of it as the signaling of the beginning of disaster.

She stopped by her locker, and put all her books away and walked as slowly as possible to the room she dreaded. When she finally got there, Rachel walked up to her and they stopped in the doorway. Brooke grabbed her black and white backpack and turned to look in the room, and already sitting down and staring at nothingness was Erica Marsh.

"How does _she_ get detention?" Brooke asked.

"Maybe she demanded extra credit."

"I wouldn't be surprised."

"Let's just be nice, cause Mouth likes her." Rachel said.

"I'll try, but I'm not making any promises."

"Fine, okay so me and Peyton are going to be downstairs in the cafeteria. The basketball team is downstairs."

Brooke gave a wide smile, and held her hair up in one hand while grasping her books tightly in the other.

"Yeah, I love you and I will remember you always." she mock cried.

"Drama Queen." Rachel taunted in a sing-song tune.

"Dear child do not forget me." she walked into the room, while holding Rachel's hand tightly, causing it to turn red, then white.

As she walked further and further, she turned back and looked at her dramatically as if she were being pushed from the Titanic. Slowly letting her hand slip away, she still held out her arm elongated perfectly, and stayed like that until she walked in front of Mr. Rountree's desk.

"Take a seat."

Brooke nodded and pulled her hair up into a high, loose bun like the girl she pulled a chair up next to. The blonde turned and said hi to her, and she smiled and returned the gesture. She seemed like a sweet southern girl, what's not to like? She was glad that Mouth picked her and thought that her little boy was growing up.

James was interesting.

James had aspirations.

James wanted to go to Harvard and become a lawyer.

James had a well to do family.

James had wanted to make it on his own.

James was admired by Brooke.

James was the wall.

She wasn't kidding earlier when she had said she's resort to having an imaginary conversation in her head with the wall. This was sad, but more fun than the alternate.

"It's been an hour, Brooke you can go take a ten minute break, and Erica you can go."

The girls jumped off of the chairs with enthusiasm, and Erica gathered up her things as Brooke walked off into the hallway on her way to the bathroom.

"Brooke!" she heard someone call her name, she knew who it was.

"Hey Erica, I'm sorry we couldn't talk earlier. Our $$es would have been had." the smile on her face seemed more of a forced smirk.

Crossing her arms quickly, Brooke inwardly adjusted her eyes to examine the girl who Mouth couldn't and wouldn't stop talking about.

Erica pulled down her bun as she rolled the hair tie onto her wrist and adjusted her backpack that was laying on her right shoulder.

"I wanted to give you my number and ask if you would give it to Mouth." Erica looked through her bag for any piece of paper. She really did not want to take a whole sheet from her binder or even get in there with all the books she had been holding.

"Can we please talk about this inside the bathroom, I have to pee really badly." she pointed to the bathroom.

"Oh yeah, of course." she laughed and the sides of her eyes squinted.

Erica watched Brooke practically run away, and she thought she heard a quick 'thank you' before she dashed off in the direction of the nearest girl's room.

When Erica got to the bathroom, Brooke was already in the stall, and she stood on the side by the sink waiting for her. Pulling out her brush, she combed through her hair, and applied a thin coat of lemony lip gloss. When she was done, Brooke unlocked the stall lock and walked out to wash her hands.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" her voice distant and her face laying unreadable.

"I was wondering if you could give Mouth my number."

"Sure." she smiled, and dried her hands after rinsing them.

Erica took note of the way Brooke had said the last word. It was nothing deeper than a forced answer that came out slowly like she was attempting to get a child to comprehend rocket science.

Erica ripped off a piece of folder paper, because she couldn't find anything else. Scribbling down her number, she handed it to Brooke and gave her a warm smile. Trying her hardest to maintain herself and hold back the snide comment she had at the tip of her tongue.

"You know, Mouth really likes you Erica."

Erica touched the unbearably cold marble plated countertop and winced before stepping back and offering a now fake smile.

"You know, I like him too. He's a really cute guy and is so different from every other loser out there. He seems like such an amazing guy." her voice was lifted from the colder tone and started warming up as she thought about Mouth.

"Yeah, he is an amazing guy and I will not let you hurt him. He's the nicest guy I have ever known, and my best friend and I will not let you use him and then lose him. He is so much better than that."

"Oh," her cold smile returning as quickly as it left. "use em lose em, kinda like you?"  
she placed her hands on her hips and waited for Brooke to quickly respond like she always did.

"My social or personal lives are none of your business!" her finger now sternly pointing in her face. "And for the record, you don't know shit about me, so don't assume that you do. Better be nice to me though whitchy poo, other wise I just may not give him your number." she threatened, backing away slightly.

Though neither of their faces softened, and remained cold and heartless.

"Well, he will only come up to me and ask for it, and what the hell bit you in the $$ so bad?."

"Whatever, I have to go back to _detention_." her voice dripped with an equal amount of sarcasm and drama.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she flattened her hair and ruffled the front so her bangs would fall heavily to the tip of her eyelashes.

"Good luck with that."

Erica's eyes showed that she was severely un amused as well as uninterested. Looking off in the opposite direction, with her left hand balled up into a fist ad resting casually on her left hip, she held out her number between her right pointer and middle fingers for Brooke to take.

Brooke yanked it forcefully from her hand using every finger of her own, and shoved it in her back pocket. Giving her one last stern look, she turned away and walked from the room. Slowly making her way back to the classroom, she poked her head in and saw her teacher's back turned toward her. She sped walked past the door, then slowed down when she walked up to the drinking fountain and held the sides of it while she held down the button and took small sips. Wiping her mouth and her jacket sleeve, she walked back as if she were paused into slow motion. Wanting to keep herself busy for however longer she had remaining for break, she thought of everything. Though she didn't want to be late for their second session, she sighed and decided to walk back into the lion's den and avoid the risk of getting another hour.

Well, I guess it's just you and me James.

She thought as she sat back down on the uncomfortable chair.

Sad, she was resorting to talking to an inanimate object.

She was scarier than the girl who was deathly afraid of pickles.

And one of mustard.

Don't forget the mustard.

A few minutes shy from an hour later, Brooke heard the familiar male's voice behind her. The voice that sometimes made her cringe, or laugh. He said she could go now, and she nodded remembering to not utter a thank you of any kind. While gathering her things, she was bent already and sensed a sensation near her navel, standing back up straight with the retrieved items from the floor, the sensation left.

She headed out the door, and made her stop at her locker to get whatever she needed of put away anything she didn't. Soon after, she made her way downstairs and found Rachel sitting on a table talking to Vegas, a basketball player who was sitting on one of the other tables through cell phones. Peyton was busy drawing something sitting in the chair, situated on Rachel's table, while a tall guy with blonde hair kept on trying to start a conversation.

Making herself know, she bounced up to them and shut Rachel's phone shut, while Rachel groaned that she hung up on the guy who was sitting six feet away from her. The two girls gathered their things, and said their goodbyes, and headed out to follow Brooke who was doing her best to dodge all the catcalls heading her way.

When they got to the car, Peyton jumped in the front seat and Rachel slid in the back, all of their school materials in the trunk. Rachel strapped on her seatbelt securely over her chest, and looked forward absentmindedly with an innocent look on her face and a slight pout. Peyton strapped herself in as well, and fumbled with the radio stations, complaining about the fact that there was nothing on. And Brooke either forgot her belt or intentionally forgot it, she was ever big on seatbelts. Having a clearly visible scar on her neck that Peyton had once pointed out, she explained that when she was younger, she was in a slight accident and the belt had rubbed furiously against her neck, causing painful and unwanted friction.

The car was gassed up and ready to go, brake down, and put into gear. Soon enough, they were quickly heading out to their long enough destination.

"Sweet! Road trip!" said Rachel, her hands were clapping merrily for a few seconds.

Brooke scoffed, yet smiled and Peyton answered while still playing with the channels.

"Yeah, a one hour road trip." she corrected.

"So, it's two for me and Brooke." Peyton nodded, remembering that they would be on their way back to Tree Hill after she had been dropped off.

"Actually it's three for me, cause I'm going to have to come back." said Brooke.

"Actually it's four, cause we are going back to Tree Hill too." Peyton corrected, with what seemed to be a calculator of a mind.

"Actually for you, it's-" Brooke got cut off by Rachel.

"Okay seriously can we stop this?" her face turned serious, which masked her playfulness.

The blonde and brunette simply laughed at how retarded they could sometimes be.

"We're so powerpuff girls." Peyton laughed, then moved her arm to rest lightly outside the window.

"We're Charlie's Angels." added an excited Rachel.

"The three musketeers?" asked Brooke, trying to not make them sound too much like a candy bar.

"Three peas in a pod." said Peyton.

"Three's company." Brooke added.

Peyton cringed, and made a look like she just sucked a lemon, "Oh God, that show sucks, my dad forces me to watch it with him when he's home."

"Scary." Brooke agreed.

"I want to be the Fantastic Four." said Rachel.

"There's only three of us." Peyton pointed out, and literally pointing to each one of the individually.

"Now Peyton, it's not Rachel's fault that she can't add. _Special_." Brooke said the last part in a sing-song voice.

"I'm not an idiot, I just with there was one more so we could be the Fantastic Four, that's all. They're pretty hott, and it was made into a movie so it's not a cartoon, and their hair is much better, or normal." she counted off, listing the differences between having four and having three. "Hey, Brooke," changing the subject. "you're wearing a different shirt." finished Rachel.

"Yeah, I know, I changed right before I came down to get you guys."

She looked down quickly to examine her white boybeater.

"Brooke, are you not wearing a bra?" asked Peyton.

"I haven't been wearing one all day. The other top I had on didn't need it, it had a built in bra." Brooke gave Peyton a very strange look, as if calling her a perv for looking there in the first place.

"Well that doesn't." said Peyton, shrugging off Brooke's stare.

Rachel wondered something, and wanted to make herself known, addressing her question to Peyton, "How did you know that she wasn't wearing a bra?"

"I can see her nipples."

"Brooke," Rachel gasped. "there is a fine line between slutty and sexy."

Peyton laughed, and pulled a pair of sunglass she scored for seven dollars over her hazel eyes.

"It's okay, and like anyone is going to see it."

"Fine." Peyton held her hands up in surrender, and smiled as she heard Rachel giggle in the backseat. Brooke scoffed and rolled her eyes, and pressed down on the gas a bit harder and they drove off into the now setting sun.

About an hour and fifteen songs like 'You Shook Me All Night Long' and 'American Woman' later, the building that Peyton had directed thanks to mapquest slowly started coming into view. It was a rather big building, looking clean and new like it most likely was. It was white with black trim, and had many windows and doors and a sign that said Sassy & G. And what looked like high ceilings and many floors, with elevators that overlooked the city clearly through glass windows.

"I'd hate to be in that elevator." commented Brooke, her pupils dilating from her sheer fear of heights.

"Me too." moment of silence. "Well, Peyton's gonna have to be in that elevator, have fun and look for us." Rachel practically pushed her out of the car and gave her a few words of advice, and hoped over the seats to situate herself in the front, next to Brooke.

"Bye guys, wish me luck." said Peyton.

They wished her luck and sat it the car because they wanted to see if Peyton could see them from the elevator. Well, Brooke wished her good luck and Rachel told her that she didn't need it, it was called talent.

A few minutes later, Brooke thought about Mouth for a second and how she immediately regretted talking to Erica that way. She tried her hardest to find someone else or something else to put the blame on, but found nothing. And she knew it was wrong to not step up and accept the fact that she was a bch, flat out without strings, a puppet master, or a ring master. Brooke Davis was once again a cold hearted bch. And she would accept that. She hated when other people tried to pull the blame off of themselves, she refused to be one of them. Though really, she had an issue with people she didn't know. If she wasn't sure she could trust you with her heart, she wouldn't dare give it a try. Only the people she had known fro pure, innocent childhood she's trust, mostly. Though she had never truly opened up to the people she called her best friends, and they didn't know that. Everyone saw Brooke Davis as either white or black, easy, dumb, bch, slut, period. Or a complicated and mysterious girl, but what her close friends didn't know was that she was a mystery to them as well. Moments that felt like hours passed, though only a few seconds flew by, and  
Rachel opened her slvr and dialed Peyton's number. Peyton answered and told her that she was just about to call them and she was getting into the elevator. She had said something after that, though Rachel couldn't quite make it out because the reception cut them off.

Well it didn't work. Well for them of course it didn't work, though Peyton called and said she saw the small car from where she was, and that some kid was jumping up and down in there,  
which scared her shitless.

"Well, it's already six. I think we should head back to Tree Hill." said Rachel.

"Yeah." her voice came out as nothing louder than a bare whisper.

Reversing, Brooke switched between looking in her rear view mirror, side mirrors, and completely turning around while bracing her right arm on the chair being occupied by Rachel and looking back and forth between the front and back of the car, she made her way out of the tight parallel parking space she took earlier. Now they were on their way back to Tree Hill.

**Brooke's POV**  
Now, it's about seven at night, and since it's winter, it get pretty dark pretty fast. So, I just dropped off Rachel, and now I have to pick up Peyton. I'm so tired, I think I could fall asleep at the wheel. Spending two hours conversing silently with an inanimate object apparently take a lot out of you. I'm so tempted to stop at the next gas station to pick up some red bull, but I don't want Peyton to have to be waiting for me. It's not exactly the safest place to be hanging around at seven at night, when you're alone, and when you're a girl. Regardless of what Rachel had said about the Wilmington gangs leaving you alone if you leave them alone. They only bother when bothered, and who knows what they consider bothered to what you do. Or maybe their just in a conveniently bored mood, so they would pick on the first skinny looking white girl that walks their paths. True, Peyton has bird legs and looks like you can break her in half by sitting on her, like my phone. Again, I had to learn my lesson the hard way. But she's pretty fly for a white girl, she is totally capable of kicking some serious $$ if needed. I should know, we used to take capoeira together. My father demanded it, he said I had to learn how to take care of myself when he wasn't around. When honestly, I am so much more capable of taking care of myself when he's not around. I think it's just that he wanted to make his parents proud that I was carrying on the race related tradition. Though it was fun, Peyton's dad insisted she do it too, and we were always partners, having a chance to beat each other up without worrying about consequences.

My eyes are beginning to get a bit blurry, but it's nothing I haven't experienced before. Counting down to the expected product from my blurry vision, I grip the steering wheel tighter.

Three

Two

_One_

Yep, right on time too. I want so badly to close my eyes and forget about the shooting pains in my head. These damn headaches, no migraines. They sure are a bch. Peyton thinks their hereditary. I don't.

I start to rub my temples with my thumb and pointer fingers spread apart, and I see from the side of my eyes that it's starting to rain.

Another droplet hit my arm, and another, until a full on drizzle was sprinkling from Heaven on my left arm that was resting over the door through the window.

I am not about to get the upholstery ruined with water. Rolling up the windows, I grabbed hold of the parking break and shiver under the rain's cold touch. I'm feeling goosebumbs rise casually and form on my skin. I just had to change into this boybeater. And of course Rachel had my jeans, and I'm stuck wearing this exposing all skirt. Of course, me being me, forgot to ask Rachel for my jeans back or a pair of hers to wear.

I press the gas harder, and it seems to stay at the same pace. The speed refused to increase although I was not pressing a bit harder three times. It wasn't too much fun going no faster than twenty miles an hour, with some monster truck, well toyota if you want to get technical, tailing your $$ cause their in a hurry. Well, it's simply called passing.

I cough loudly as I feel the uninviting night's air creeping slowly through the cracked window. But I hear something that sounds similar, yet different. An oxymoron, I know, but that's how it really sounded. Was my couch that hoarse? Though I hear it again, but I'm not paying any attention to it. I'm being way too distracted by the stupid car behind me. I flip him off without turning back, and I immediately cower, remembering what Rachel had said. That this was gang territory, and they'll only mess with me if I mess with them. Well, I'm pretty sure flipping someone off is considered messing with them. Finally, the car passes me, and I breath a sigh of relief. Though the noise if back, and I hear a sputter coming from the front of my car. I finally noticed that my foot is now pressed fully on the gas pedal, and anyone with brains would know that it only takes a little led to kick it into full gear.

20 mph.

15 mph.

10 mph.

5 mph.

Gee, I wonder what's going to happen next.

_0 mph.  
_  
Hmm, I'm either a psychic or shit out of luck.

I vote for shit out of luck, otherwise I would have seen this coming.

I curse as loud as I could over the now heavy rain, and bang my head against the steering wheel. I try to start the car again, since it now made it clear that it had momentarily died. While I'm putting the keys in the ignition, that stupid, irritation sputtering echo through the night. I figure after about the seventh try, it's dead. So I sit there for another few minutes, deciding what to do, before I reluctantly climb out of the car and now I'm pissed that my window is partially down and there's conveniently no backup for power locks.

Light Bulb.

I remember that I have a jacket from earlier today in my bag, so I open the trunk quickly and pull out my jacket, and then tossed the bag back in securely, and put the radio in there as well, just in case anyone tries to break in. Though they could take the car and everything with them. But what the hell am I saying? If my baby's not going to start for me, there's no way in hell she's going to start for some scum trying to steal a perfectly innocent girl's car. So, now I have the jacket, I'm thinking, _the car or me?_ The car. It's worth way more than I am. So I'm stuffing the jacket in the crack, carefully placing it more on the inside that the outside, and lock everything, while dragging my ass somewhere warm. I look back at the car, before kicking it hard on the front wheel. I sigh as I take another look at my beautiful,  
four hundred thousand dollar porsche carrera gt. _Lovely_.

I'm now calling Peyton, and she asks me if I'm there yet. I tell her everything that happened, and my clothes are now drenched wet and clinging tightly to my body. And my hair is now straggly sticking on some parts of my face, like my forehead or cheeks. Peyton's telling me to call a cab, and meet her at Sassy so we can deal with it together. I tell her _no_, it's only about for blocks away and we'll just call a cab from there. Although the bills going to be a bitch, thank God for daddy's credit cards. But I'm still walking, I'm already drenched like a cat in heat, what the hell else could possibly happen? Her voice is now getting irritating as she's yelling at me to stay put and call a cab. Though, I again refuse, I guess I'm just that strong willed person I always was. Now, I am going to hang up on her. And I did.

Some time and sore feet later, I silently coax myself that there are only two blocks left, and they're small. My phone is now ringing again and I see Peyton's number. I open and close it, I can already hear her scolding me for not calling a cab. She's always worrying too much. My eyes are starting to burn, and I close them and rub sort of in a hard way, and the stinging water seems to now relax my eyes. Then, all of a sudden, bam. I trip and fall smack into someone, I can't see clearly yet. I feel a pair of strong arms steadying me by my shoulders and I hear a low, raspy voice silently cursing under their breath. Now I'm hearing a soft chuckle in the background, and I spit venom before looking up.

"Watch where I'm going!" I looked up.

I immediately regret it.


	2. Night Got Cold, It's Almost Eight T

BrathanxBrucasxLova -- Thanks for your reply! I'm sorry that I don't know your name right now. I probably know you from the other board too, I just don't recognize your sn. aha.

calixx -- Thanks for reading and replying!

Ashley-In-Wonderland -- The girls don't know two of the guys Nathan/Lucas/Jake. They only know one, and I can't tell you who yet. 'Cause it'll explain soon, and I don't want to spoil it for you.

BrookieCookie490 -- Why thank you! hehe. Seriously, Thanks so much!

kaligator -- Thank you for taking the time to R&R I'm glad that you like the couples, or at least don't hate them. It makes the story better to read. haha.

asharp -- Oh, don't worry, my middle name's angst/drama. You'll be sure to see some crayyzayy shiittt! aha.

Glad to see you like B/P/R as friends, like me! Your comment made me almost blush.Yes, almost, I've only blushed once in my life. But, you made me come close.

Lauren -- Sorry to confuse you. lol. Thanks so much, you made me smile big! Virgin and Ho in the house! Yea, 'tis alright. haha.

BrookeandLucas -- Thank you!

BaybeeBlue -- Thanksies! Are you serious? Does Leslie voice Sorry, inside joke. But, that's flattering that I'm in your author faves! Thank you.

mangoskin -- Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! On my Dean/Brooke fic as well! I'm really glad you like my stories!

**Chapter Two // Night Got Cold, It's Almost Eight. Take These Fools Away From Me **

**Brooke's POV  
**I'm now looking up into the most beautiful pair of cobalt blue eyes I have ever seen. They were hidden behind heavy black, thick eyelashes. I don't know wether to be blown away and amazed, or scared shitless. His eyes stay unreadable with nothing but coldness storming through them, and his face matches his eyes perfectly. I look at him, and notice the shirt, jacket, baggy jeans, the way he holds his smirk, and the tattoos littering the other standing behind him smirking in the exact same way and I take note that they must be part of a gang. Most likely the Kings. Fear strikes me like an electric current stinging though my fingertips going to the tips of my toes. All I want to do is scream for help and run as fast as my little slipper clad feet will take me. I mean, Rachel did say not to fk with them, and again I fucked stupidly with someone. Though this was dumber, he wasn't in a car, he was standing right in front of me with his hands on my shoulders. This was awkward, fk this was straight forward scary as hell. Yes, I'll admit it, Brooke Davis, Tree Hill's personal bad $$ is scared like a dog about to piss themselves. I may be bitchy, strong, and feared back in Tree Hill which I am now feeling a growing appreciation for it deep inside of me. There, I was the bitchy, strong, and feared girl as I had said. Here, I am simply just one in many, and a very insignificant one at that. But I'm not about to let these guys know that, though they might already. I am scared. But that's something that they don't have to know.

_My head, it hurts  
Each day it's getting worse  
My looks and smile  
Have now become my curse  
Tight lips, red skirt  
The never ending street  
Big car, little man  
My lover for a fee_

"What the fk, get the hell out of my way." the raven haired boy said with no bit of sarcasm in his voice.

So he wants to play this game, well he's probably serious but that's beside the point. And he doesn't have to know that I'm terrified and all I want to do is curl up with my booboo and suck my thumb. That would seem childish. Just a little bit.

"Well sorry." I tried to say it in a cold voice to match his tone, though I seriously meant it.

His eyes are cold and frigid, with a face that dares not show any emotion. A quiet smirk playing upon his lips, and every bit of arrogance reading on his features. His dark brown hair spiked up at the tip with blue, and contrasting against his dark hair. Deep blue eyes, that occasionally had stormy gray surging through it. He was wearing a white shirt, baggy stone washed jeans that had attached chains hanging low. His underwear would probably have been exposed if not for the big leather jacket on his arms, shoulders, and back. The one behind him snickered, and looked every bit as dangerous as the one in front of me. Though he didn't have a touch of punk or anything similar on him. He looked like a straight up gang member. Honestly, I didn't know what was scarier, the goth looking one/gang looking one, or simply the gang looking one. Honestly, the first seemed to have colder eyes, more dangerous eyes, the other seemed a bit amused, maybe playful. Maybe that's ignorance. The one behind him had on the exact type of clothes the taller one did, but subtract the jacket. His arms were exposed by the wifebeater her wore on his upper half, littered with tattoos. I wondered if the other had any, probably. Heh, wifebeater, they both had those on, wifebeaters, how accurate.

_So if you see me will you just drive on by?  
Or will I catch the twinkle inside your eye?  
And if you want me well I guess I want you  
Oh pretty baby how could you?_

"Who the hell told you to walk into me?" he spat, letting go of my shoulders.

The slightly shorter boy behind him stepped closer, closing in on me and saying,

"Yeah, who the hell told you that?" I could tell that he was one of those sidekicks who say the condensed version of what the other had just said. That was truly annoying.

"It's called an accident and that means that I didn't mean to do it."I rolled my eyes, and walked over to the corner, trying to figure out where I was going.

The rain was now fully coming down and it could not have gotten any harder.

I hear footsteps over the sound of rain beating down on our bodies. They seem to be getting closer and closer with each passing moment, and I step off of the curve and silently pray that they won't follow. Though of course I don't tend to get what I ask for.

I finally get to the other side and see the building come into closer view that before, a car drives right behind me, and I hope that it slows down the guys.

Now, I'm looking at the smaller guy step in front of me, preventing me from doing anything else. Rolling my eyes and scoffing loud enough to get my point across, I turn around to go the other, longer way, I bump into the chest of the other one, and again came face to face with the one that had dangerous written across his face.

_Standing in the rain  
Milk carton mug-shot baby  
Missing since 1983  
Standing in the rain  
20 years of dirty needles  
Raindrops runnin' through my veins_

"Boo!" he said, smirking at the way my pupils probably dilated with fear.

Damn him.

There were his blue eyes again, enhanced slightly with the eyeliner he wore. His eyes were almost mesmerizing. And take note of this.

I said _almost_.

"Can I help you." I said as more of a statement than a question.

He walked around me, and we started circling each other like two lions about to devour each other in hate, or mating. I shuttered at the last thought.

He finally settled next to the other one, and they both blocked my way to my destination. I could feel eyes roaming up and down me. I caught them both looking at all parts of my body and I remembered that I was wearing a white boybeater, no bra, it was freezing cold, and raining. That equation did not equal anything good. I cross my arms over my chest protectively.

_My head it hurts  
Each day its getting worse  
No sun, my room  
Has now become my hearse  
Cold sores, im beat  
Got bruises on my feet  
My pride, these men  
Have taken it from me_

"Yeah, you can apologize." the boy with dark brown hair, and blue tips said.

"I kinda did you moron."

The one with lighter brown hair said something so softly, I couldn't even pick it up.

"See, that's not what I was talking about. You have to apologize for calling me stupid, and then you kind of just did it again, so you have to apologize profusely." wow, that was actually a big word.

"Profusely, such a big word for such a small brain."

"Whatever you say _jewels_, at least I compensate for whatever you think is small in other, more important areas." he smirked, flashing his teeth.

"Big ears aren't important." I push past him and start walking faster, but not too fast so he thinks I'm scared.

_So if you see me will you just drive on by?  
Or will I catch the twinkle inside your eye?  
And if you want me well I guess I want you  
Oh pretty baby how could you?_

He looks slightly insulted, but it's probably his mock hurt showing perfectly clear. Though it scares me that I can never tell anything with him, I have no idea what he's thinking and that's pretty scary if you bump into a perfect stranger and have no idea if they have any intention of cutting you up and throwing you in a dumpster or not. His eyes totally remaining unreadable, and the only possible emotion I could make out is coldness and bitterness.

I started walking as fast as I could without coming across as petrified. Peyton and Rachel would call me stupid, and they would say to run as fast as I could. I have more pride than that, some would call it too mush damn pride, but whatever.

_Standing in the rain  
Milk carton mug-shot baby  
Missing since 1983  
Standing in the rain  
20 years of dirty needles  
Raindrops runnin' through my veins_

**General POV**  
The feet that were lightly hitting the pavement, so as not to cause any attention belonged to the taller, darker haired boy. Next to him stood the other who was now running his hands through his shorter, lighter colored hair. She started to pick up the pace, and crossed her arms over her chest protectively while tucking her hands under her armpits. Her head is now hanging low, and she tried her best to pier through her heavy bangs that were now clinging to her face. Walking faster now, she started approaching the building at a faster pace. Her feet took her closer to the building that was now only a few steps away from her, well more like fifty steps away. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her perk nose began to run accompanied by a heavy sniffle, more involved with the harsh cold waters whipping across her face with the wind, than anything else. Much father behind her stood the two boys who were now walking together, before the taller one hit the other on the back, and the shorter one nodded in affirmation.

The darker haired one picked up speed and now was taking bigger steps, as the lighter haired one lagged behind. He stood there at a much slower pace, lifting his hands, as the muscles in his tattoo littered arms flexed, and brought his calloused, story-telling hands up to his hands to breathe air on them for sake of warmth. The other quickly gained on the wringing wet, and head hanging girl. She sighed and gave a weak smile as it became clear to her that all she had to do was walk some more, and get in those narrow doors. Home Free.

Suddenly, a pair of slightly tan and muscular arms wrapped one arm around her waist and the other grabbed the wall as he steadied himself in front on the doors she had been waiting to get in. You couldn't say that she was surprised, the inkling that those two guys could still be behind her was great. She was feeling nothing more than anxiety. As he released her small waist from his slight grip, he arched his head back and smirked like he knew exactly what he was going to do.

"So _jewels_, why is a girl like you walking around a place like this?" his gaze once again averted to her breastbone area, the area that she had recently forgotten to cover.

_Standing in the rain  
Milk carton mug-shot baby  
Missing since 1983  
Standing in the rain  
20 years of dirty needles  
Raindrops runnin' through my veins_

Catching his gaze, and tracing it down to where his object of attention lay, she gasped all too loudly. She didn't want him to hear it, but she did want him to know that she didn't approve of him gaze-groping her.

"Trying to avoid people like you, thought it hasn't been working has it? And why the hell do you keep on calling me _jewels_?"

Now, she was desperately attempting to get past him, and shoved his arm away from the door in the process. At the exact moment of skin on skin contact, she felt a rush of electricity run through her body. And she could have sworn she found goose bumps on his. Though there was an all too easy explanation. The rain was bitterly cold on a night like this. Though his arm was much stronger than she had anticipated, his strength would not budge. All new resorts were now tried by Brooke. She attempted to duck under him, to move to the side, whatever she could possibly scrounge up in that mind of hers.

"Because you look like one of those rich bitches who get whatever they want. Hence jewels, you know, like jewelry." he mocked her like a child being explained a situation to with the help of his hands.

"Well that's all very interesting and all, but if you'll move out of my way, I have better places to be. You know...like, oh I don't know...anywhere but here."

The rain was now creating an angry rumble, and Brooke jumped a bit. The only things that were crossing her mind now was to simply get away from trouble, and seek shelter while attempting to head back to the protection of the comfortable Tree Hill. This task which she had reluctantly conceded was not any less than difficult.

_So if you see me will you just drive on by?  
Or will I catch the twinkle inside your eye?  
And if you want me well I guess i want you  
Oh pretty baby how could you?_

"Sweet little innocent _Juliet_ wounds me."

His chesty simper started distributing surreptitiously and equally over his good looking features. At the same time, his hand crept up to cover his chest above his heart, mimicking a heartbreak.

"Why are you calling me all these different names? My name's _Brooke_."

Her sharp tone came out in no more than a correction, not trying to start a conversation or anything. Though the conversation being held was against her will, and pissing her off fast.

"I don't call you different names, that's _Tim's_ job."

He pointed over his right shoulder, without so much as a glance in his friends direction. It was like he knew he'd be creeping up on the pair and started lighting up a cigarette in the process.

"I called you _Juliet_, which was derived from _jewels_."

She peered over his shoulder at the other that he had just subtly introduced her to. She couldn't help but wonder how many brain cells of his were killed, as she watched him attempt to take a drag in the pouring rain with skin whipping winds. Curses of his were heard as he obviously burned himself on the thumb while trying to cover the lighter's path to light the damp cigarette. Her attention immediately turned back to the one in front of her, when she felt a calloused finger reach under her chin to get her to refocus her gaze on him as he was talking. Her hand roughly pushed his away, and she took note of the danger in his eyes. They were not resurfacing, they had never initially left. Every withering stare had been plated with nothing more than coldness, distance, and danger.

"Well, don't call me _Juliet_, or _jewels_, my name's _Brooke_."

She finally gave him a huge push, and sent him a deadly glare before he stumbled out of the way. She knew that it wasn't her push that got him to move, he seemed much too strong for that. It must have been her frigid stare that basically told him to back the fk off.

_Standing in the rain  
Standing in the rain  
Standing in the rain  
Milk carton mug-shot baby  
Mother, I have lost my way  
Standing in the rain  
Milk carton mug-shot baby  
Missing since 1983  
Standing in the rain  
20 years of dirty needles  
Raindrops runnin' though my veins  
Standing in the rain  
Mother, I have lost my way  
Standing in the rain  
Mother, I have lost my way_

Making her way into the building, pushing the doors aside. She took a much needed and anticipated breather and long sigh of relief. Turning to walk away, the howling of the night's air could be heard entering the building. Turning back around to face the doors, she noticed the more 'friendly' one taking a single step inside, and the other sucking his thumb.

"Bye bye muffin."

He mumbled loudly though a pained expression.

Now the one in front opened his mouth to speak and she scoffed and turned away, but not before he caught her eyes with his.

She heard him say something, he had finally left, but forgot it soon after she realized that he had used the nickname he had now branded her with, and smirked as she narrowed her eyes, obviously bothered that he again refused to use her birth name. Though now, her mind wandered back to moments earlier, and she made out every word he had said before her new nickname.

"By the way, my name's Nathan, _Juliet_."

* * *


	3. Somewhere, Something Incredible Is Waiti

Riley06 -- Oh course it's not weird to love bad/mean/emotionless Nathan in this story. That is one of my own guilty pleasures, haha, hence why I wrote this. hehe. Anyway, I'm glad that you like him and Tim. I just had to have Dim in there, because I love their friendship too much to not have it. Oh, the couples besides Brathan will be Leyton, and Jaley Jake/Haley and some Chris/Rachel on the side. I hope you like them. 

Ashley-In-Wonderland -- Aww, I can't spoil it for you, you'll end up regretting it later. Surprise is half the fun! Aha, I sound like a damn mother hen. ; Anyway, I'm glad you still love Nathan, because some people have a hard time seeing things with an AU story. Especially when the characters a AU themselves. But I'm going to try and keep Nathan's personality as in character as I can...well like season one...for now. 

asharp4 -- I know, right? They're like electric together, hence why I lover this couple to prune juice. How are they going to meet again? Well, it's all in this chapter. But don't cheat and skip ahead, or look for his name, 'cause you wont find it! Hehe, I'm too clever, j/k. But you'll know who he is when you read it. Oh, and this story is going to be implied from Brooke's POV, and that'll in turn make Nathan seem like more of a mystery, since you don't really get insight into his thoughts. Puts you in Brooke's shoes in a sense. But, later, we will develop more into Nathan's state of mid, which I think you will enjoy. And Lucas, I think he makes an appearance in the next chapter. 

Diana -- Oh yeah, I'm sorry. I know who you are now. Haha, thanks for your review, and thanks for rereading my story on here too, that's awesome! 

Lexi02 -- You know, I never really thought about that idea of yours. It's actually really good, I have to say. But unfortunately, I've already written a few more chapters, so it's kind of set in stone. But I hope you still like mine just as much. : 

OTHx23xTigger/kaligator/BrookieCookie490/calixx/mangoskin93/BaybeeBlue/BrookeandLucas/Laurrr and all the rest of you whom I've already replied to, thanks so much for all the MM-AZING feedback! I got so many reviews, it took me about 2864264 hours to write all that you guys rock!! 

**Chapter Three // Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.**

_--I would rather live in a world where my life is surrounded by mystery than live in a world so small that my mind could comprehend it.-- _

The rain had cleared, clouds followed suit, and the moon set as the sun rose to meet a brand new day in Tree Hill North Carolina. Peyton had gotten her internship, acting as pepped and ready to go as a sperm donor. Brooke had been thinking endlessly about her strange encounter that had occurred a few nights previous. Rachel had been completely unmindful of her best friend's encounter, as well as Peyton. It was a brand new day and nothing was sound.

**Brooke's POV**

And the boy's eyes are full of what I could only estimate as self-assurance, certainty, venture, insouciance, and curtness. Masked completely with a thick layer of frigidity and mysterious secrecy.

I couldn't help but want so badly to know about his life, if he had one, who he had one with. I could feel my body shaking inwardly with something that I could only classify as _jealousy_?

He was probably one of the many gang boys that had a girlfriend with one of those all-American names that could double as stripper names. Candy, Pepper, Sugar, Honey, the list goes on and on. The kind of girls who have more tattoo coverage than skin on their bodies. The kind of girls that have sex with every Tom, Dick, and Nathan. Ooh, Dick, nice choice phrase, especially in this situation. (sarcasm) Actually, I probably just described me, minus the more tattoo than skin thing, and I have a better name. The sleeping with guys thing is not something I'm proud of, but it's a fact about who I am. In fact, I don't remember a time I was ever really proud of myself.

_I just can't seem to get those eyes out of my head though. _

And it would be so beautiful when the boy smiles.

And I just can't seem to get him out of my head.

And I will never see him again.

**General POV**

Twirling a black hair tie in between her thumb and forefinger, Brooke exhaled a long, dramatic sigh. She hadn't meant for it to seem so loud, she hadn't even known it had escaped her lips until Peyton turned her blonde curls to look at her best friend.

"What's up?"

She began shifting her green eyes back and forth from Brooke, to the front of the room where their American Government lesson was being taught.

Brooke sighed, pushed a stray hair aside, and answered. "Nothing's up, I just hate history."

She gave a smile that was both unenthusiastic and weak, though the only thing that saved her from complete mindful exposure were her convincing dimples carving their way though her  
roseate cheeks.

Though Peyton could easily see right through it regardless. They had known each other since the tender age of six, when Brooke's family had first moved to small and welcoming town of Tree Hill from Hawaii.

The two had many things in common, yet harbored many differences. As time and the girls grew, they started developing more and more things unalike. Though that had only strengthened their friendship if that was possible. They were both able to see what was on the other's mind, what the other was saying, and what the other was feeling. There was the same thing with Rachel, when she had moved with her family as well. They had moved from Lafayette Louisiana when the girls were eight.

Peyton had been the only product of a Tree Hill romance, the only country town bred baby.

The girls loved that the other's could easily read what was on their minds when they didn't have enough courage to show it.

Sometimes Brooke hated that. But then sometimes she knew that they didn't know everything about her. And in all honesty, she hated it that way, but she loved it that way.

"What's up?"

Peyton repeated for the second time, this time more forceful, sounding similar to a caring mother.

Brooke turned her head over her right shoulder, and her shoulder length, straight brown hair cascaded as much as it could. Her eyes were fixated on the board, looking completely engrossed. Basically, it was a cheap ploy to not have to look her best friend in the eyes.

"Nothing's up, I just hate history with a passion."

She now did her own share of repeating. This time she only added, _with a passion.  
_  
Peyton raised her eyebrow, and tapped her number two pencil on her binder, which was laying on her desk.

Brooke smiled, "Look, I swear that I'm fine. I'm just thinking about something."

_Or someone._

Her smile was the closest thing to reassuring she could muster on spot. Peyton, who didn't completely buy it, decided not to press the issue though, she knew that her best friend would tell her with time.

Brooke looked up at her, and silently thanked her for backing off. And returned to thinking about those cobalt blue eyes that she couldn't seem to get out of her head since that stormy night. And those stormy eyes. _No, no Brooke, you have to stop thinking about that weird dude_, she kept telling herself.

The remainder of the day went by quickly for Brooke, who was now looking at Rachel who was coming towards her mumbling.

"Damn it, that class took forever."

Well, to Brooke it went by fast.

You know what they say, 'time flies when you're having fun'. She was thinking about those two blue eyes idly the entire time. Maybe she was having fun, or maybe it was simply the side effect of curiosity.

Maybe not.

"Well, come on girlies, let's go get ready for the game."

Peyton said, pushing in between the two, and linking arms with the pair.

It was a Friday night, which signaled two great things. The hyped game in which the girls looked hott, cheering along the hott and talented basketball players from the sidelines, and the start of the weekend where they were free for doing anything, like attending the weekly house party, and spending the remaining two days in spontaneity.

Their basketball games were always filled with students, and packed with parents, whom all brought the extra the enthusiasm that the cheerleaders may have lacked, to fill the large room with that complete game feeling. Student sports announcers, their mascot of a raven, and the opposing team that brought on the challenge. It was a nice feeling to get ready for a game every weekend, and welcome that feel of challenge, yet know that you will come out on top, and actually will. The small piece of doubt that you could possibly loose, which is slight, only adds to that edge-of-your-seat tension that fills you completely with proud adrenaline that only completes that perfect high school society experience.

Now the girls were arriving, and the boys were either in the locker room suiting up, on the sidelines talking to Whitey, or warming up with free throws on the court. Peyton sat next to Bevin, and Brooke next to Peyton, who had Teresa on the other side stretching attentively. Rachel sat indian style next to Teresa, and soon extended her long legs slightly outward to go into a butterfly stretch.

"You coming to the party tonight?" said Teresa.

Her head jerked slightly to Brooke, and shook her hair out of her face to peer over her right shoulder, while still leaning forward to stretch out.

"Hell yeah, as long as we have two things there, I'm a happy girl." Brooke gleamed excitedly.

Before she could finish her sentence, Bevin cut her off. "Red Bull and hott Tree Hill bred boys."

Brooke cursed, "Damn, I'm not that predictable."

Her statement sounded kind of more like a question that anything else.

"Uh, yeah you are. I mean you only like live, and breath Red Bull, and I know you love it." Bevin said.

Brooke nodded, with a tight smirk, and a dimpled chin, which she also threw in a nod, in a gesture as if saying, _hmm_.

Teresa laughed, "Yeah, plus you always say these exact words, _hott Tree Hill bred boys_."

The other girls turned their heads to face the girl talking, and some inwardly agreed with her, while others outwardly agreed.

"You have to admit, Tree Hill mommy's and daddy's make some pretty good looking baby boys." said Rachel, leaning forward into a butterfly stretch, her nose touching the ground.

"And baby girls." Peyton said.

Brooke narrowed her eyes, and perked up, "No, Hawaii makes pretty looking baby girls."

Rachel scoffed, and rolled her eyes after she added, "Louisiana is not that bad, actually the baby girls are pretty damn pretty."

Teresa shook her head, sending her hair flying around her face, whipping Bevin in the arm who whimpered "No, Tree Hill."

Bevin brushed it off, and piped up, "All in favor of Tree Hill say _aye_."

She raised her hand and said _aye_ along with Peyton, and Teresa who joined them.

Brooke rolled her eyes, and Rachel pouted and crossed her arms. Both seventeen year old girls acting similar to five year olds.

"No, but seriously Hawaii makes some pretty baby boys, I'll give you that Brookie-Boo." Teresa said.

She reached over to pat her on the leg, and the girls smiled at Teresa who was laughing one second, and completely serious and saying something the next, and the fact that she said that Hawaii had hott boys.

Bevin tapped her chin, looking back at her friends. "I wanna go to Hawaii, take me with you the next time you go Brookie-Bear!"

Her voice would have easily echoed through the big gym, if it hadn't been for the rest of the energetic ruckus, due to the fact that Bevin had practically yelled the last part to Brooke. While throwing herself in her friends lap, leaving her hair all over Peyton's in the process, who was situated in the middle of them.

Peyton tried to push her head up, and backed up desperately as she felt as if she was being tickled to death.

Brooke stroked her head playfully, and calmed her down in the process.

"Next time _Bevie-Bear_. For now, we're just going to have to make due with Tree Hill boy's."

Bevin still pouted, and wouldn't budge, much to Peyton's dismay who was still trying to get her hair out of her lap.

"Bevie-Boo," she patted her arm that was laying on the gym floor next to Brooke's legs. Bevin looked up, like a hurt two year old who's daddy is trying to get her to look up from her mommy's lap. "We also have some really hott boys in Wilmington." said Rachel, straightening her back from her stretches.

Bevin seemed to budge, and both Brooke and Peyton looked at her to continue. Teresa looked embarrassed that one of her best friends was starting to make a show, and the boys now had their eyes pasted on them. Though they already had their eyes on the cheerleaders on a reflex, now Bevin was acting like a baby, which to some may have come across as cute, or embarrassing, like it was to Teresa.

"What more do you want?" said Peyton. She asked with a pained expression.

"Say it like you mean it." Bevin said.

They all knew what she meant. Rachel sighed, speaking, "The mommy's and daddy's of Wilmington have some pretty baby boys."

Bevin jumped up enthusiastically, and everyone gave a sigh of relief, though no one as loud as Peyton. They all smiled though, and appreciated Bevin's lightheartedness, it was good to not take anything too seriously all the time.

"Okay, now enough baby talk, it's sexy talk time." Bevin said.

She said as the game was coming close to starting.

They got up, following Brooke's lead, and she walked to their normal cheering section, with a preoccupied look on her face.

Soon after, the game had started, and the Ravens were down 32-36 with nine seconds left.  
That seemed impossible to most, but with a team under Whitey, the Ravens were known for their winnings, and they didn't intend on losing now.

The seconds counted down in the fourth quarter, and they scored a three pointer. Soon, they shot from the free throw line, and as the ball was mid air, the seconds reached zero. It seemed as if the ball was frozen in the air for what seemed like forever, and all heads were turned to the basket, and everyone in their seats were now standing.

The buzzer sounded, and as it finished, the sound of a ball swooshing through the rope of a net was heard, and the scored ended 37-36.

Loud cheering was now heard reverberating through the large room, basketball players jumping on each other, and cheerleaders jumping to the middle of the court where the sweaty boys celebrated. Parents cheers were heard, and Whitey came over to pat the boys on the backs as they all basked in the glory of yet another win.

They were the Tree Hill Ravens, always known for winning. Maybe not known notoriously all over the county, but well known to whomever they had matched. Maybe not always winning by longshots, but still winning nonetheless, wether they had won by one point or not, winning's winning.

When the hype of their winning game died down, the kids were on their way to the weekly afterparty with their hype. Celebrating or not, they would always have an afterparty, it was a tradition that even their parents had years before.

They were having the party at Rachel's house this time. Most of the expected were already there, and people were already starting to fall into a drunken state early in the night. Blake Knight was rummaging through her cabinets, looking for jello. He was one of the many good basketball players, they were all one of many. There wasn't really any one boy who stood out easily from the rest, and carried the team.

The large french doors opened to expose the interior of the large home, which was crawling with already drunken high school kids.

Rachel made her way downstairs as she heard more people start to come.

Brooke, Teresa, and Bevin were still upstairs rummaging through Rachel's makeup, and Peyton was running fingers through her hair, to try and untangle it. She stood behind Rachel, descending down the stairs in her black and pink tank top, ripped mini, and black lace up boots.

The large mirror that sat on top of Rachel's antique dresser was adjacent to the hallway, and reflected off of another bedroom.

Bevin and Teresa were talking amongst themselves, and Brooke was applying golden mascara to her lashes. Her face looked like she was in deep concentration.

Bevin nudged her by accident, as she was trying to apply Nars eyeshadow to the edge of her eyelids like eyeliner. Brooke looked down for a second, and nodded when Bevin apologized. When she looked back up, she froze in what she thought she saw in the mirror's reflection far behind her, standing in the open doorway of the bedroom across the hall from Rachel's.

Feeling a shove from her left, she looked at Teresa who was staring at her curiously and looking ready to join the party.

She shook her head, and realized that she must have been staring in what had caught her in the moment.

When she looked back up, there was nothing more than a closed door staring her back straight in the face.

"What was that all about?"

Brooke shrugged, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah nothing," said Bevin, grabbing her strapless bra and slipping it on slyly. "that's why you just zoned out on the mirror and I think there's a little drool there too." as she tapped Brooke's chin.

Brooke's hand whacked hers away, and smiled playfully, with a little extra pink tint to her cheeks.

"Well, whatever, off to the sex, drugs, and rock and roll." said Teresa, patting Brooke's arm linked with her own.

"You don't do drugs." Bevin said, confused.

"And you don't even like rock and roll either." said a sarcastic Brooke.

Teresa turned back to her two friends and flipped her long hair over her right shoulder, smiled and walked further out of the room.

"Yeah, but one out of three's not so bad."

And she bounced on out of the room, and grabbed onto the banister as she made her way to the main area of the party.

Brooke and Bevin put away Rachel's makeup, and tidied up her room a bit. Then both made their way downstairs arm in arm, and at the bottom, they parted ways and went off into opposite directions.

"Having fun pretending to be someone you're not?" asked Peyton.

She heard her best friend say when she walked right next to her in the kitchen, grabbing a red, plastic cup filled with golden liquid to match Peyton.

Peyton always hated coming to these parties, hated plastering a sickening smile on her face, and hated seeing her best friends running off repeatedly to spend the remainder of the night in various rooms with random guys.

Though she did it anyway, this was the only thing she knew. The only thing her friends knew. Since basketball and cheerleading were the only two things that mattered in the town, you were either in or out. And since all of the people she knew were in, she couldn't be out.

Brooke rolled her eyes, and gave a seductive smirk to impress any of the many guys eying all the cute girls.

"Loosen up Peyton, and stop putting a damper on partying. Just try and be a seventeen year old for once in your life."

She acted like she didn't care, and she was completely fine and content with this life that they were all forced to lead. Peyton was always going on about something like being someone you're not to her friends, Bevin, Rachel, Teresa, and even Brooke would always shrug her off and go on about their lives. Though to Brooke, deep down inside she knew that Peyton was right. Peyton didn't know how right she was, or that it really hit Brooke close to home.

"Well, have fun getting an STD."

To some this may have come out as bitter or frigid. Though Brooke knew that Peyton only cared about her, and it helped that there was no tone of malice in her voice.

"Shut up."

And she walked away into the crowd, leaving Peyton engulfed in a game of _I Never_. She passed Bevin making out with one of the guys on the team, and shrugged, making her way to the dance floor.

Bumping into Blake, she saw him grinding against some girl, and walked up to the pair.

"Shouldn't you be in the kitchen with your girlfriend?" asked Brooke, a hand firmly planted and plopped on a hip of hers.

She asked, walking up to them, and pushing herself so now she was sandwiched in between the two. Which wasn't something she wanted to do, feeling the girls boobs pressed up against her back, and his erection pressed into her crotch.

"You have a girlfriend?" the girl named Brandy asked, looking up into Blake's impassive features.

"What the hell are you doing Brooke?" he asked, backing away from her. He didn't want himself pressed up against Brooke for two reasons, she was his girlfriend's best friend, and she would tell his girlfriend that he had been getting an erection from dancing with another girl.

"Number one," she said, turning to the girl who was a wannabe cheerleader. "you very well know that he has a girlfriend, and who she is. And number two," she said, turning back around to face Blake. "what the hell are you doing?" she asked, raising her voice.

He said bye to Brandy, and she walked away, instantly finding some other boy to dance with.

"Now why is it that all the girls with hooker names also have American names?" She muttered under her breath.

"Let's dance." said Blake, and grabbed her by the arm. She swung into him, and he pulled her along as she started dancing unenthusiastically with him.

"The only reason that I'm letting you grind your what-what's all over me is because I want to talk to you."

"Less talking, more dancing."

Brooke rolled her eyes, and tried to wriggle free from his grasp. She knew that he wasn't about to come onto her, but that didn't mean that he wouldn't flirt a little. Maybe his girlfriend didn't mind him grinding all over other girls, but she found that unacceptable.

"I though you were tearing apart Rachel's kitchen anyway, why are you here now when your girlfriend is in there?"

"Well, because I was making jello shots, and now they're cooling and I have no reason to be in there." he responded, holding her closer.

Brooke arched her eyebrow, "Your girlfriend is not reason enough?"

She started looking around her, and felt as if she was being watched. She didn't know wether it was an uneasy feeling, or a flattering one.

Not unless the person staring at you is some schizophrenic maniac, then that just seems to cross the flattering line.

Just a little.

"She decided to go in there when she could have been dancing with me, it was her choice."

"Whatever."

Back in the kitchen, Blake's jello shots were cooling, and probably weren't very good because they were going to be runny. Peyton sat at the table, and they started the game, with many different types of alcohol spread out over the table top.

People took their turns, and said things like, 'I never kissed a member of the same sex', 'I never go commando', 'I never did the 69', or 'I never did it in my parent's bed'. Now it was Peyton's turn, and she had another shot glass being placed in front of her, and filled by one of the obnoxious guys who was already gone.

"Okay, I've never," thinking about what to do, she looked around the room thinking of things she's never done. "I've never had done it standing up."

She looked around her, and many of the people surrounding her drank. Only one girl kept her glass firmly placed in front of her.

"Okay, my turn." said Matthew, a fellow senior, and basketball player. He was noted for being one of the popular guys, and one of the jerky players, along with one of his best friends, Blake Knight.

"I've never had my significant other cheat on me with my best friend."

He said it, looking straight at Peyton, who looked around for her boyfriend's familiar brown head.

Finding him, she saw him holding a laughing Brooke close, and they were grinding to 50 cent's 'Just A Lil' Bit'.

Standing up, she walked over to the couple on the dance floor, and did the same thing that Brooke did to Blake and Brandy. She pushed herself in between the two, and looked right at Blake with eyes that didn't look pissed, more like annoyed.

"Hey baby girl, I was wondering when you were gonna come to the land of the living." He cooed, and ran his hands through her hair. Peyton pushed him away, and turned to look at her best friend who now wore a scared expression on her face.

She was scared that she was going to misinterpret the situation. The last thing in the world that she wanted to do to Peyton was hurt her. Even if she was interested in Blake, she would not go after him in any way, shape, or form. Though she could now see how this situation could escalate, it didn't look too well.

"Could you two tone it the hell down." Peyton said, and walked away before Brooke could reach over and grab her arm.

Blake started laughing, and looked over at his friend who was now smirking.

"You're such an $$ Matt." he exclaimed, still laughing. Matthew lifted his cup up and was motioning a cheers to him.

"You're such a fag Blake." scoffed Brooke, shoving him hard in the chest, he looked at her walk away and rolled his eyes.

Brooke walked away in order to find Peyton, who was probably still pissed. Pushing her way through the crowd, guys were trying to pull her into their arms to dance with them, and as she shrugged them off, she could feel Blake rolling his eyes at her back, and could also feel someone else's eyes on her.

After a while, she couldn't find Peyton anywhere, and decided that it would be better if she could have some alone time to cool off. That was exactly what she always wanted when she was in a bad mood.

Surrounded by friends, or acquaintances, or whatever they wanted to call themselves, Brooke stood near the dining room, which a keg was in, and started laughing about random things.

Time went by, and a drunken boy came sauntering near an equally drunken Brooke who was now laughing hysterically at something a fellow cheerleader had said.

He looked over at Brooke, and thought that he was about to get some. Knowing all about her escapades and hearing all the stories about how she'll do anything, and is amazing in bed, not to mention amazingly hott, and sexy. He walked up to her and tapped her on the shoulder from the back, and when she turned around lazily, he slipped and golden liquid came pouring out over her black camisole.

Letting out a shriek, there was nothing to do but hold her head when the room started spinning around.

"Nice job." Brooke slurred, and he laughed it off while getting napkins to try and help her dry off. Her hand pushed his away harshly, and she backed up and tried to grab onto fellow partygoers who acted as her support as she tried to saunter away.

The boy asked her where she was going, as if he forgot that he completely soaked the front of her top in his drunken state.

She wasn't completely wasted, though the amount of alcohol that she had consumed in that little a time was starting to take a toll on her.

Knowing that she the problem could be fixed in a few hours, and with cans of red bull, she walked over to the bottom of the staircase and made her way upstairs so she could borrow a tops of Rachel's.

Her eyes started to blur, and she finally made her way to the top, but everything seemed to be upside down for her. Normally this wouldn't make a difference for her, she liked that feeling of not knowing anything and forgetting the world for one night. Though now she was clutching her stomach which had shooting pains surging through it, and winced at the throb in her back.

_Not tonight Brooke._

She told herself that _that_ was all the alcohol she would drink that night. Plus, she had to be sober when she found Peyton, so she could apologize properly.

Though that didn't change the fact that she was wandering into any room she could find, hoping that she chose right and found Rachel's.

Hushed voices talking amongst themselves could be heard behind the closed door of the room Brooke was now turning the handle to.

Suddenly, the door swung open, and Brooke crashed into the hard chest of someone she didn't know, but remembered meeting.

Feeling herself fall to the floor when her legs gave out on her, she closed her eyes and awaited the fall. She didn't feel it though, and instead felt two muscular arms grasp her around the waist. The only thing that she could remember was fluttering her eyes open to a blurry figure, before blanking out completely.

When she came to, it wasn't that long after. Maybe only half an hour had passed at most, and she recognized this room now.

A poster of Scarface, how original.

**Brooke's POV**

My vision is blurry, and my head hurts like a bch and matches my stomach in throbbing.

This is the room that Rachel and I would only sometimes go into to get something we needed, but we never snooped around in here. She always spoke in codes and acted like it was some sort of covert operation.

"Here, put this on your head."

I can hear a deep voice coming from behind me, and recognize it barely. It belonged to the person whose chest I had smashed into.

I thankfully take the damp washcloth I'm being handed, and lay it on my forehead, careful to evenly distribute it.

"How am I in here?"

Yuck!

I can hear my voice come out raspier and tougher than usual, it's scratchy and sounds similar to me having a cold.

I hear him chuckle lightly in the background

"You crashed into me earlier when I opened the door. By the way, why were you eavesdropping on me?"

I heard him say. I hadn't seen him in so long, even since we were children. We were eight and he was ten, but he was always off with his father. Rachel was always with their mother. Now, ever since their father was shot and killed, Jake is in one of those rival gangs and he's never home. Why the hell is he here now? And why is he being so nice to me?

"I wasn't eavesdropping," I said quickly. The last thing you want for a gang member to think is that you were eavesdropping. "I didn't hear anything," ooh, I'm good. "and if I did hear anything, I wouldn't have remembered it by now."

He nodded as if agreeing that my excuse was legit.

"Why were you even at my door anyway?" he asked, looking down at her. Damn, another question. Does he not know the meanings of shit-faced, and blacking out?

"Um, I thought it was Rachel's room."

Jake snorted, "Yeah, I can believe that. You were pretty wasted."

He laughed, looking like he was reminiscing.

"Why am I not wearing the same clothes?" I ask, now looking down at the black and white tunic I was wearing.

He laughed, "You were soaked with beer, I went and found Rachel and told her to change you. We left you here because her room was, well you know, occupied."

"Eww." I said it in a way a blonde would say, _duh_.

"Yeah, I know. At least it wasn't my baby sister." Hah, if only he knew that Rachel does that exact thing _every_ weekend.

He was leaving whatever he was busy with this entire time, and his face came forth from the shadows.

He looked the same, you could still tell it was the same person he had always been. Though he looked older of course, he had stubble, and his hair was darker. His muscles were bigger, and he was wearing a white wife beater that showed off his biceps, which were littered with tattoos. I noticed one of them was the same one as the other I had seen the night before had. The obnoxious sidekick one, that must have been their gang tattoo, they must have been in the same gang.

I tried to sit up, and actually it wasn't that bad. I'd probably have to rest for a little while longer, but then I'm sure I'd be fine.

"Here's an aspirin just incase, and some water."

"Oh, and can I have some-"

"Red Bull." he stated, placing the beautiful can in front of me.

Jake sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed I was in, his bed. "I remember when you were a kid and whenever I saw you, you had one of these in your hands. Really, what kind of parents let their eight year old kid drink Red Bull?"

"My parents." I mumbled.

A little while passed between us, and he was still fumbling with whatever he had found so interesting.

I turn my slightly stronger head that the aspirin kicked into, and looked over at what he was messing with. Something that looked black and silver, and made a loud clanging noise when he dropped it on the counter and cursed. He moved back a bit to suck his thumb, and I got a closer look at it.

A gun!?!?

A mother-fg-person-killing-hole-making-bad-$$-son-of-a-bch-GUN!!

I've got to get out of here.

My legs seem to be fine under me, and I start to stand when he turns around to look at me.  
He flinches when he realizes that I'm up.

_Great job Brooke._

Make a guy with a gun flinch. Next time he can flinch the trigger all the way to your face.

"Feel strong enough to make it downstairs on your own?" I nod apprehensively.

"Look, I don't think it's wise to go back down to a party when you just passed out." he said to me.

He came closer to me, and I backed up. I knew he was right, but I just held my hands up in front of my chest, and smiled in appreciation. He really was a sweet guy, a little scary, but sweet. "I'll be fine."

"Well, just don't drink anymore. And if you see Rachel drinking come tell me." He looked half serious yet half joking.

"Can do." I said, he nods, and turns his back on me to doing whatever it was he was doing. I turn around again and start talking.

"Listen," he turns around and wrinkles his forehead to show me that he's listening. "thanks for taking care of me." he only shrugs. "It's the side effect of being a big brother."

I give him a genuine smile, and turn back to the hall and close the door behind me. It finally crosses my mind that there were voices inside of this room, plural, not just singular. Where were the rest of them?

I found my answer. A second later I see a blonde guy who isn't bad looking, and he's pretty tall. He has a big brown leather jacket, and he's talking to one of the girls, but he looks like he's bored.

**General POV**

She walked right downstairs and instantly ran into Rachel, who was siphoning beer from the keg.

Good thing Jake wasn't down there.

_Chug! Chug! Chug!_

Brooke pushed her way to find Peyton, who was now outside by the pool, draping her feet into the sides of the shallow end.

Peyton heard footsteps coming in from behind her again. It wasn't very unexpected, because it was a house party filled with drunken high school kids, and Rachel had been trying to talk to her, and she was sure Brooke was about to.

"I wasn't mad at you because I thought you like Blake." she started, without so much as looking behind her. "I guess, I just know that I'm his doormat, and everyone else knows that. And they may get the wrong idea about the two of you, and it's just-"

"Embarrassing." they finished together.

They finished the last part of Peyton's sentence together, as Brooke took a seat next to her. Taking off her own shoes, and dipping her feet into the cold pools water.

"What the hell Peyton! How are you not a popsicle right now?" a freezing Brooke shrieked as her feet jumped back. Peyton laughed and Brooke joined her.

They spent a few minutes in silence, and Peyton looked at the time on her cell phone. Hours had passed since they had first got there, and she stood up and straightened her top and skirt.

"I thought you weren't mad at me."

She looked up into Peyton's eyes who were glossy, as she was thinking about her life. She was always talking about her friends living a lie, she had felt like a hypocrite. Her boyfriend didn't respect her, and everyone knew that.

Peyton sighed, "I'm not, I just need to get out of here, and clear my head, I want to be alone, and I'm tired."

"No problem." Peyton nodded and gave her a big smile, before walking away slowly and wrapping her arms around herself.

"Goldielocks?" asked Brooke. Peyton turned around. "Brookie-Boo?"

"I love you." the brunette smiled.

"I love you too." she said, walking out and away, saying a silent goodbye and goodnight to her friend.

It took Brooke a few minutes after Peyton had left to realize something. "She's my ride home!" she said out loud, and got a few weird looks from a few people within close range. She turned her head, slightly embarrassed, and could have sworn that for a split second she saw two eyes that matched the brightness and intenseness of the pair she hadn't been able to take her mind off of. She shook her head, and again shrugged it off, blaming it on the alcohol that must have resurfaced.

Another half an hour had passed, and Brooke could feel her stomach and her head starting to throb slightly once again. She wanted to get home to the serenity and calmness of her big, empty home. She had spent this pass half an hour making out with random guys, dancing with random guys, passing up drinks, and looking for anyone sober enough to take her home. God knows that her friends weren't there, they were all off in random bedrooms doing whatever she desperately didn't want to know, or they were stone faced drunk.

She went to the bathroom because she felt as if she needed to go. Well, not needed to _go_ but needed to be in there. That would explain the cramping in her stomach.

When she got there, sure enough she made the right decision in going to the bathroom.

Washing up, she plashed water over her face, and decided that she would take the remainder of her makeup off of her face with the remover in the cabinet.

Opening the door, she sniffled as if she were coming down with a cold, and looked across the hall at Jake's open bedroom door. He was shrugging on his jacket, and the rest of his friends looked as if they were getting ready to leave.

They were all making their way out of the doorway, and coming towards her, since she was standing outside of the door of the bathroom, which was located smack dab in front of the descending staircase.

When most of the guys had cleared from the doorway, and the last figure emerged from the shadows, she blinked in surprise of that familiar stance, silhouette, and...eyes.

When all of the guys made their way past her, sent her looks up and down, and had left. The last one who she could just not take her eyes off of stayed leaning cross armed against the doorframe. She couldn't see his face, but she could feel his smirk being sent her way.

Goose bumps popped up on her fair skin, and she could have sworn that she could feel chills running up and down her spin as if an electrical current was surging madly through her blood.

He looked down and then looked up again when he had come about five feet closer to her. Her breath became hitched deep within her throat, she could feel it. He came closer to her, and opened his mouth to speak.

She had so many questions, but didn't want to ask them. She had never met anyone so closed off, and for some reason she wanted to know why.

She needed to know why. She had never met anyone so full of mystery, intrigue, excitement, and danger.

"Need a ride?"

Not trusting her voice, she nodded. This was going to be an interesting night, and she was now following him out the front door, and closing it securely behind her, not expecting any of the night's forthcoming events, but anticipating it nonetheless.

_--Avoiding danger is not safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.--_

* * *

Otay then, it's Fin for today. I'll have more soon. And, just so you know, I will post the links for songs that I wrote into my chapter, that you should listen to while reading next time. Read and Review, please. Be honest, please. Love, Brit. 


	4. We Don't Need To Whisper

apple01 -- Oh, there'll be _total_ Brathan action next. ; )

kaligator -- You have? That's cool. Thanks for reading it again here, and reviewing. Oh, by the way...you cannot wait till Brathan talk? Well, then this is your lucky chapter.

bRuCaS.mAtchmAdeInHeAVen.nAley -- I'm glad you like the Brooke/Rachel/Peyton friendship. Tons of people seem to still hate Rachel, and I just don't understand why. I've loved her since she first popped up in Tree Hill. Well, it's nice to see someone else who appreciates their friendship. : And, I know, Nathan _is_ hott, isn't he? And Brooke _is_ awesome too, not to mention what you said about Dim, aha. I love him, I just had to put him in there. I'm glad you like my story, and you think mine stands out. That made me smile.

midnightXwishesXunheard -- Me too! I love that whole unpredictable thing in guys. Oh, Haley comes in chapter after next. And, does Jake have Jenny? Well, I can't tell you just yet, sorry. 'Cause if I do, it'll honestly ruin part of the story for you. You'll find out in the next chapter, and if you don't catch it, I'll point it out for ya.

BRUCAS EQUALS LOVE -- I really loved and appreciated your reply. I mean, look how many _love_'s I got! Seriously, and then you said that you weren't really a big Brathan fan. That totally made my day. To know that I could convert a Brucas or a Naley fan, haha. Or at least _almost_.

jamkagomeiloveinuyasha -- Ha, I totally know, Nathan being the sexy punk/gangster that he is which was why I so wanted to write this fic. ; I never gave Brooke getting shot by a rival gang a thought, but it's a good idea. I love how people give me ideas that I never thought of, I'll keep that in mind for the future. That would pwn.

asharp4 -- Yeah, actually, mine aren't really working either. Some of my friends that also have accounts on here have been having multiple, various problems. When I get reviews, it usually comes in the form on an e-mail to my address letting me know what's up, but it takes days to even get to me, so yeah. Well, if you want, I could personally reply to you. I've gotten pms that seem to go much faster. I'm glad you like Jake's character, he's too much of a cutie to exclude. Well, you're going to have to read on to find out who was watching her, it'll be so clear in this chapter you're about to read. Oh, and yes, Lucas was there. Not to spoil anything, but Peyton will most definitely kick Blake to the curb. But I guess that's a given, Peyton just has to be with Lucas. They're too perfect for each other to not be together! Oh, and Brooke was just drunk, well, very drunk.

Ashley-In-Wonderland -- I'm glad you like the Jake and Rachel brother and sister thing, but just for further clarification, they are half siblings, with different fathers. So, they have different last names. Well, to answer your question, Peyton was Brooke's ride home, but when Peyton and Brooke were outside, Peyton said she was leaving. They said goodbye, and only after Peyton already left did Brooke realize that they both forgot Peyton was Brooke's ride home. And, you're going to have to read on to see who offered Brooke a ride. It'll be really apparent in this chapter. I love Nathan! That's right! How can you not love that hunk of gaged, eyelinered, gun carrying, hottie? Aha, well, I'll shut up now, I'm sorry for confusing you, I hope the next chapters will be more clear.

Kendra -- I know, it's kind of funny how we all love Nathan as a jock/spoiled/ass as well as a punk/gang/semi-ass. But he makes it work either way, huh? Hehe, well, I'm glad you like my version of Nate, I have fun writing him that way. I know, dude, me too. I mean I love jocks and pretty boys too, but also the mysterious guys who you have to keep guessing with. That's just so hott! Everyone loves a badboy!

OTHx23xTigger/BrookeandLucas/calixx/Brook -- Thanks you guys, I really love all the positive feedback. Makes my day, as does everyone else's. Thanks so much to everyone who replied. Let the story commence! Listen to "The Adventure" by Angels and Airwaves if you want. It's the song I used in this chapter.

**Chapter Four -- We Don't Need To Whisper. **

**Peyton stalked through the bar area, shoving her way through drunken teenagers, attempting to find someone familiar whom she liked.**

Dodging someone's spilt tequila shot, she also avoided a random guy falling into her for support, instead he hit the ground with a crash. Peyton shook her head, and shrugged him off, and spotted the red head party girl leaning against the wall talking to two guys from the basketball team.

"Hey!" Peyton yelled over the music, a few feet away from the preoccupied trio. She did feel slightly out of place, especially when interrupting Rachel when she was _commixing_ with the crowd.

"Hey baby!" Rachel cooed like a mother.

Peyton's eyes narrowed, adjudicating inwardly if the red head was at present inebriated.

Rachel amiably dismissed the couple of boys which suspended on reference to her every declaration.

"What do you need babe?" Peyton timorously twirled her honey golden betwixt her thumb and middle finger, whose nails were painted a deep shade of black. "I wanted to ask you a question..." Peyton drifted off, and her voice was now growing softer as her soft voice progressed towards the end.

Peyton watched as Rachel's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and with a nod of the head, she urged her on non verbally to continue.

"Can we go somewhere a little quieter, I'm not really comfortable shouting this over the music." Rachel nodded.

"Oh, a personal question huh?"

Peyton scratched the back of her nape of her neck, and nodded her head, "kind of."

Rachel looked at the blonde, and pointed to the top of the stairs, which her bedroom was located near. Taking another sip of the golden liquid in her red plastic cup, Rachel made her way to the stairs, following closely behind one of her very best friends.

When they got to the top of the stairs, Peyton opened the door to Rachel's room, and saw two people laying on the bed making out. Two people that neither of them knew.

"Get out." Peyton said with an exasperated tone.

Rachel just gave a look of disgust, and bore whole's into their backs the entire time they blushed violently, straightened up, and stalked out of the room.

When they heard the door shut close, Peyton exhaled a long, hard sigh, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Rachel rolled her eyes, and shifted her cup to the other hand. "Um, I thought that I made it perfectly clear over the years that I do not want _anyone_ doing _anything_ in _my_ bedroom."

Peyton chuckled, rubbing her hands against her legs. "Well, I'm sure they were freshman, be easy on them."

"Freshies." Rachel scoffed with disdain.

Peyton let out a hypertensive laugh, and shifted uneasy on the gigantic bed.

"What's wrong with you?" asked Rachel.

Peyton shrugged. "Nothing, I just want to know _aboutthegangthing_." Rachel raised an eyebrow, and tilted her cup away from her, balancing it at an angle in one hand. "Excuse me?" she asked.

"You heard me." Peyton sighed, looking like her hand just popped out of the cookie jar.

Rachel blinked, "Um, no I didn't, that's kind of why I asked you to repeat it."

She noted how Peyton suddenly found the ground so interesting, and wondered why she was acting like a virgin at a prison rodeo.

"I wanted to know about the gang thing."

"What about it?" Rachel smiled.

"Just, I don't know—whatever you know that's interesting."

Rachel became suddenly intrigued with each passing moment, and strode closer to sit on the bed beside the fidgeting blonde girl. "Well, the gang I know most about is the Kings. My brother is in it, I guess that's really how I know about it."

Peyton gave a forced smile when Rachel mentioned her older brother. She knew how much Rachel loved him, and how much she used to admire everything he did when they were younger. Then, one day, he became more distant, and the distance void simply grew bigger and bigger, until one day she hardly knew her brother anymore. She would always pretend that it never affected her at all, and carried on with her partying and playing. But inside she missed one thing more than ever, her big brother.

"Remember when my father died when I was eleven?" Peyton nodded. "Jake was thirteen, and it really affected him. I mean, he was his only parent left, and then he was an orphan. Yeah, remember when I said that his mother died when he was a baby, she got in a car accident."

"Like my mom." Peyton sadly said in a hushed tone, remembering.

"Yeah."

"Well, why did he act out so bad? I mean he had your mother, he knew her practically his whole life." asked Peyton, looking up at Rachel, who was now simultaneously switching between pursing her lips and biting them.

"Yeah, but she wasn't his mother. So, he kind of rebelled, and started hanging around with them as a _Mark_."

Peyton raised her eyebrows as if to ask a silent question. "A wanna be gang member." she shrugged.

Peyton showed that she understood, and urged Rachel on to continue.

"After about two years of hanging around them, he finally _jumped in_. An initiation into the gang." she clarified. "Then he was a _BG_ at fifteen."

"A _BG_?"

"Oh, a baby gangster." Peyton nodded again.

"Then, he just sort of earned his way to the top over the years. Now he's nineteen, and probably one of the most powerful guys and leaders. Of course, no one is any more powerful than Nathan Scott. I guess the only reason he joined the gang was not because he was acting out because our father died, he did it because he wanted to get even with the gang who killed our father."

"How do you know that?" asked Peyton, truly intrigued.

"Because the Kings are the enemies of the gang that killed him."

Rachel blinked back the tears, as she remembered how she had heard the news of her father's passing. Another classic gang scenario. Bought from pushers that were members of the gang, and when he fell back on his ability to financially compensate for what he used...He tried to avoid them, and eventually they decided that they didn't want to play any longer.

They did exactly what they said they'd do to him. All the threatening calls, signs, and instances.

"I'm sorry Rachel." She noticed quickly how her hott tears streamed down her cheeks, and harshly wiped them away.

"So, they just live their lives like anyone else in a gang. I mean, they're not as bad as some other gangs. Somehow they manage to be the most notorious and dangerous gang, but minus the violence."

"How are they dangerous if they're not violent?" asked Peyton.

"No, I'm not saying that they don't use violence, because they do. I'm saying they try to avoid it as much as possible, and when they do use it, they don't murder in cold blood, just hands on, a fair fight. They're not the kind of wussies that will shoot a child or an elderly for an initiation or just for fun."

She pushed a piece of fiery red hair behind her ear. "Unless it involves their rival gangs, especially the Bloods."

The two girls stayed silent for a few minutes, Peyton was processing everything that she had learned. And Rachel was digesting the pain of what had happened in her life six years ago.

"Thanks for telling me all that Pipi-Longstockings, I mean I didn't mean for all those bad memories to come back to you."

"It's okay, talking about it doesn't make it hurt any less or erase it." she waved it off

Peyton embraced Rachel in a comforting hug, and after a few seconds, she patted her on the shoulder, before stalking slowly out of the bedroom.

Grabbing the door handle, she heard her friends voice call her name.

"Peyton?" she turned around. "why did you want to know, pulling a Brooke on me?" Rachel laughed.

Peyton smiled and slowly started to open the door behind her back. "No reason, I was just curious."

Rachel smiled, and Peyton turned her body so she could walk out to the rest of the party, and Rachel let out a sigh. "Whatever you say P. Sawyer."

The night greeted the young adult, and the older teen trailing behind him. It seemed so much darker outside then it had seemed earlier, from the inside looking out. Even in the backyard with the pool seemed to be brighter. Must have been the lighting.

Brooke tucked her hair behind her ears, which had fallen to her golden face like it had so many times before. Immediately, the realization of what she was doing hit her all at once like a ton of bricks. Blinking, she finally came to terms with the fact that she had been weak on so many levels.

First of all, she was allowing her thoughts to wander to _him_ all day. Next, she seemed to have formed a new condition of muteness, and started nodding her head incessantly like some random imbecile. Then, all that she had known as a firecracker went out the damn window the second her eyes met his amazing face.

She inwardly smacked herself for letting herself lack that normal cocky attitude she had.

They neared their destination, and Brooke to her first look at his 'car.' It turned out to be a motorcycle, she just didn't know which kind it was.

She didn't think she'd have to.

She was just a girl. As simple as that.

Nathan, feeling the lack of presence behind him, turned to look at Brooke who was now glaring at the bike.

He let himself let out a low chuckle from deep within his throat, the look on her face was priceless.

He hadn't seen a girl that was afraid of his bike. She was different.

He liked it.

Nathan slung his left leg around the side of it, steadying himself on the grounded bike. Feet firmly planted on the dirty ground, and his hands gripping the handlebars slightly.

"You coming?" he asked, without so much as an acknowledgement of turning around.

His voice snapped her out of her daze, and she shook her head back and forth slightly to knock out the way she was acting. This was the way she hated feeling, like she could be intimidated by someone. This current behavior wasn't the norm for her, the normal Brooke Davis would scoff and give a seductive grin and compliment his bike. No matter how much she didn't love bikes, or the fact that she has never been on one. It wasn't every Tree Hill resident who had a Harley packed away in their two car covered garages. Or in her case, six car covered garage.

_I wanna have the same last dream again  
The one where I wake up and I'm alive  
Just as the four walls close me within  
My eyes are open up with pure sunlight  
I'm the first to know  
My dearest friends  
Even if your hope has burned with time  
Anything that is dead shall be re-grown  
And your vicious pain, your warning sign  
You will be fine_

Walking the few feet that separated them, Brooke plastered on her sly smirk, and stopped short a few inches.

Looking up and down the bike intensely with a sexy batting of eyelashes, she looked up at him and said, "nice bike."

He smiled, he scratched his dark hair covered head, and turned his head to lock eyes with her. "I know."

She could see what she had seen in his eyes so many times before, or what she couldn't see.

His blue eyes screamed magnificent with a stormy questioning covering most. It was a mixture of pure cobalt and silver.

No matter if some were threatened, scared, or intimidated by them, others were drawn in and simply captivated or mesmerized. Maybe not many, but Brooke was not many.

Many were easy, gullible, had no or low standards, and were nothing more than cheap.

She didn't want to be, and he didn't want her to be either.

Now she felt herself climbing onto the bike behind him, grabbing the hand he extended to help her climb her way on. She settled herself comfortable behind him, trying to keep a few inches of distance between the two of them, and he turned around as she was doing so.

"Nice accessory." he mimicked, but in all truth lacing his voice.

She looked at his face, and noticed that he was looking quickly at her body. Following his eyes down to her navel area, she noticed that her camisole had ridden up slightly.

"I know." she repeated his very own words not more than just a minute before to him, and he smirked slowly.

Her hair was now being pushed back by her hands, and she watched as his neck turned back to the front and he started the bike and kicked the parking brake up.

Her legs were brought up to stay on the side of the bike, and his was still firmly planted on the ground. She was guessing that it was so they wouldn't loose balance and topple over. Her head was facing the party and the house that she had stayed at habitually when she felt something cold ad hard tap her right shoulder. He was handing her a helmet that was black and silver, and matched perfectly with the bike. Shaking her head, she pushed the helmet and his hand away from her.

He gave another laugh, and shook his head after putting the helmet away. They looked to the other guys who weren't too close and were already either gone or pulling out.

He felt her put her small hands on the top of his shoulders.

_Hey oh here I am  
And here we go  
Life's waiting to begin _

"Hold on." his voice was rough and low, she hadn't heard anything else since she had met him the very day before.

"I am holding on." He chuckled lightly, kicked up his feet, and revved the engine.

She nearly fell backwards when he jilted them forward while pulling harshly out of the driveway. Now he could feel her arms completely encasing his waist from behind.

She could feel his body shake with laughter, even though she couldn't hear or see him, and she could feel her cheeks beginning to heat up.

"So," he started, "where am I taking you?"

"Home." she said simply.

A smile formed indolently on Nathan's handsome features, as he looked back at her face which now lay on his back.

"Yeah, that really helps me a lot. Maybe you could help me by telling me which tree or shrub to turn by, or maybe which mongoose to follow." he grinned, almost predicting that she was blushing behind him. "Which street it's on would be good too." he ended.

"Oh right," now her cheeks were heating up even more like he thought. She couldn't believe how ridiculous she was being just then. And she wondered if she was acting so weird because of him, or because of his illegal driving. They had to have been passing the speed limit thirty miles ago. "do you always drive this fast?"

Nathan smirked and turned to look at her so she could see him. Then, he turned back when he saw the panicked look on her face and he realized that she must have wanted his eyes on the road.

"You didn't answer my question, or do you want to be driving around aimlessly holding onto me from the back, and breathing in the scent that is pure pleasure, that is me."

Aww, so he was a cocky one. She could be too.

Who was she kidding, she had the imaginary class superlative as class bch stolen since day one.

"Cocky much?" he eyebrow raised, holding onto his tighter.

"Yes, very." he answered.

He knew she was rolling her eyes, and remembered the exact color of them too. A mossy green with deep complexity, beautiful but still simple. With a hint of passion and fire that sparked a twinle that made her entire face light up. Well, he thought so, but not in so many words

He knew that he was cocky, and most girls loved that. They would fall at his feet just because of his face or because of his name. Whenever he would throw a smart remark their way, they'd simply laugh and lay kisses all over his neck.

Not to say that he didn't love kisses being left up and down his sensitive spots, but he was a guy who loved a girl who had a mind of her own.

"No seriously, where do you live, cause I won't just drop you off some random place where you can get raped."

_Any type of love it will be shown  
Like every single tree reach for the sky  
if you're gonna fall  
i'll let you know  
that i will pick you up  
like you for i  
i felt this thing  
i can't replace  
when everyone was working for this goal  
where all the children left without a trace  
only to come back as pure as gold  
to recite this all _

A breath hitched in her throat when she realized that his voice was nothing but serious. For some odd reason, she felt safe with him, and she didn't know why.

Letting him know exactly where to go, she held on tighter to prevent herself from falling.

The wind was fully alive and crushing volume of masses of air across their faces as they could feel the drizzle. It was light, but it seemed to be hitting them like massive pellets.

Her head now lay on his back, and she could feel his muscles tense and flex under his heavy leather jacket separating their thing clothing touching.

At times he could feel her clutch his chest roughly, holding onto him as if he was her only life support. Especially when they had a close shave in an assiduous or occupied driveway.

She remembered the day before, when they had first met in that awkward situation. She had been withdrawn from him, and backed away like a person whose been burned. Now, she was clinging onto him for dear life, finding herself not wanting to let go, watching the large homes passing by.

He smirked as he realized that she was completely oblivious to their being right outside of her home, even though she had told him how to get there. He wiped a drizzle drop off of his face, and slowed down into her humongous driveway. He took a look up at her home, and then looked back at her, who was gazing out into the night, obviously deep in thought.

Realizing soon after she felt the bike slow to halt, she climbed off of the bike that was still vibrating from the stagnant engine.

"Nice house." he whistled, surveying the place slightly with his eyes.

Brooke shrugged, and wrapped her arms tighter around her for the sake of warmth. The drizzle that she could now feel was taking a toll on her.

"I guess so." Looking down, she could hear him laugh, and knew that he was instinctively smirking wildly.

He climbed off of his bike, and put the parking brake on while holding it up with his hands by the handle bar. He sat down on it sideways, sort of leaning against it gently. His arms were in his lap, and the engine was still running.

"Thanks for the—" She started, but only to be cut off by his warm lips caressing hers in one swift motion.

He could feel her body tense and she froze up as she didn't return the kiss. Few seconds passed, and he pulled back, due to lack of reaction.

Their faces were now only inches apart, and both could feel the other's breath on their faces.

"I didn't know you didn't want to kiss me..." He started trailing off, his voice showed no emotion whatsoever. His face showed no more than his voice was letting on. And surprisingly enough, that statement he just made was his way of apologizing. Nathan Scott didn't do formal apologies, he never actually said the word _sorry_ in a hell of a long time. He didn't plan on doing so anytime soon.

_I can not live  
I can't breathe  
Unless you do this with me  
I can not live  
I can't breathe  
Unless you do this with me  
I can not live  
I can't breathe  
Unless you do this with me _

"I just didn't expect it." She said half in front of his face, and most of the rest against his lips as she brushed hers against his once again, leaning up to the tips of her toes to reach his full six foot two.

It was now his turn to be cut off by the other brunette, he could feel the tingly sensation of her lips on his like it was earlier. Only this time he could easily feel her reacting, as she melted into the kiss.

Her arms instinctively traveled their way up his sides, chest, and shoulders, and she wrapped them around his neck.

His tongue casually traced her rosebud lips as he placed his hands on her waist firmly, but gently. Parting her lips happily and quickly, he slipped into the access she had just permitted, tasting every single inch of her mouth.

He left hand remained on her right hip, and his right hand found its way up a bit to the small of her back. He smirked as he felt the curvy arch of her lower back, and how sexy the slight hollow felt.

She smiled into his wet, warm mouth when she felt him moan softly into her mouth.

After a few more minutes passed by, Brooke was the first one to pull away for much needed oxygen. She felt like a virgin again who has just received her very first kiss, the way she was panting for breath made her feel like she was loosing her touch.

He cursed under his breath, breathlessly, bedazed.

He rest his forehead against hers, and looked deep into her eyes that twinkled, even through the night's darkness.

She looked up into his as well, they were hidden beneath thick, dark eyelashes, but she could still see the amazing blue. There really was no one color adjective to properly describe his eye's shade of blue.

Cobalt came pretty dam close though. Even though his eyes looked brilliant didn't mean that they dared show even a hint of emotion. His eyes and face remained just as stoic as always, the only difference was the need for oxygen face he was wearing.

"Yeah, what you said." Her eyes were downcast, and he tried to catch her gaze.

"You know, it's okay to swear once in a while." she rolled her eyes.

He had his two fingers under her chin, and could have sworn that he saw her rolling her eyes, but shrugged it off and waited for her to look back up at him not more than a second later.

"You should go." he spoke about the now rain drops and her shivering shoulders.

Her arms came up instinctively to rub the opposite, and smiled a huge dimpled smile as she took a few steps back.

"Thanks for a fun night."

_I can not live  
I can't breathe  
Unless you do this with me  
I can not live  
I can't breathe  
Unless you do this with me  
I can not live  
I can't breathe  
Unless you do this with me_

Her eyes sparkled with flirt, and he picked up on it, and changed his tone into one of a flirting as well.

"You're a fucking amazing kisser." he started, rubbing his own jaw line.

Brooke nodded, and looked back at him with a change of expression, "Well, have a nice life."

Old Brooke snapping back as she completely ignored his previous statement. Her tone lay completely free of any bitterness, just pure teasing, honesty, and disappointment.

The realization of the fact that they didn't even know each other's last names, or that they were perfect strangers, or maybe the fact that they had hated each other the previous night hit her all at once.

He watched as he saw nothing but her retreating back, and he swung his leg over the side of the bike, and straddled it, kicking up the parking brake, and revving the engine twice.

He watched as she walked up to her big red door, and pressed the handle open. She was safely inside.

But before she walked in and closed the door completely, he spoke up over the engine, loud enough for her to hear.

"I'll see you later angel-face."

Nathan was now driving a bit when he recognized the house he was now passing by.

It was the house that he had made an appearance at with Jake, the house that had thrown the party, the house that he had seen Brooke again for that second time at. And not the last time. He smiled at the look of surprise he had seen on her face, and walked away before he could promise her he would see her again. Nathan Scott didn't promise anyone anything, he simply kept to his word.

Looking back into the mirror, he noticed that one bike was left in the driveway. He smirked when he knew exactly who it belonged to.

Revving the engine harder, he propelled forward, and smirked satisfied, and drove off into the night, heading towards Wilmington.

Brooke walked deeper into her house, and turned on all the lights in her path on the way to her room. When she got to her destination, she shrugged off her clothes, and slid on a pair of boxer shorts and a white boybeater.

Picking up the phone, she dialed a familiar number.

"Hello?" came the reply from the receiving end of the phone call.

"P. Sawyer, what are you doing? You still at the party? I thought you left." _which was why I thought I had no ride, which it why I took one with..._

She found herself having to yell, because the sound in the background became to boisterous.

Peyton held her cell close to her ear, and plugged her other with her finger to block out the sound.

"Yeah, um I know I said that I probably wasn't going to stay, but I'm pretty occupied at the moment."

She could practically hear Brooke cringe through the phone, and make that disgusted face she always made when she mentioned any kind of sexual mention of her and Blake.

Looking around, Peyton looked to the blonde at her right, who was now leaning against the doorway, and motioned five minutes.

"No Brooke, I'm not with him."

_Hey oh, here I am (do this with me)  
Here we go  
life's waiting to begin (do this with me)  
Hey oh, here I am (do this with me)  
Here we go  
life's waiting to begin  
life's waiting to begin _

Peyton answered, already knowing the next statement waiting to shoot forward from her best friend's mouth.

"Well who are you with?"

Peyton could hear her yell over the phone, but didn't quite get a chance to reply before her phone battery beeped and then died out.

Peyton tried to turn back on her phone for one last once of power, but decided against it, and turned back to her earlier conversation.

Brooke groaned anxiously, and closed her phone as she fell back onto her king sized bed.  
A single thought drifting through her mind curiously.

_Who the hell was Peyton with?_

* * *

Upcoming, who was Peyton with? And a helluva whole lot more. Stay tuned, please read and review no matter what opinon. But no flames. 

_Fin._

_apple01__ -- Oh, there'll be total Brathan action next. ; _

_kaligator__ -- You have? That's cool. Thanks for reading it again here, and reviewing. Oh, by the way...you cannot wait till Brathan talk? Well, then this is your lucky chapter. _

_bRuCaS.mAtchmAdeInHeAVen.nAley__ -- I'm glad you like the Brooke/Rachel/Peyton friendship. Tons of people seem to still hate Rachel, and I just don't understand why. I've loved her since she first popped up in Tree Hill. Well, it's nice to see someone else who appreciates their friendship. : And, I know, Nathan is hott, isn't he? And Brooke is awesome too, not to mention what you said about Dim, aha. I love him, I just had to put him in there. I'm glad you like my story, and you think mine stands out. That made me smile. _

_midnightXwishesXunheard__ -- Me too! I love that whole unpredictable thing in guys. Oh, Haley comes in chapter after next. And, does Jake have Jenny? Well, I can't tell you just yet, sorry. 'Cause if I do, it'll honestly ruin part of the story for you. You'll find out in the next chapter, and if you don't catch it, I'll point it out for ya. _

_BRUCAS EQUALS LOVE__ -- I really loved and appreciated your reply. I mean, look how many love's I got! Seriously, and then you said that you weren't really a big Brathan fan. That totally made my day. To know that I could convert a Brucas or a Naley fan, haha. Or at least almost. _

_jamkagomeiloveinuyasha__ -- Ha, I totally know, Nathan being the sexy punk/gangster that he is which was why I so wanted to write this fic. ; I never gave Brooke getting shot by a rival gang a thought, but it's a good idea. I love how people give me ideas that I never thought of, I'll keep that in mind for the future. That would pwn. _

_asharp4__ -- Yeah, actually, mine aren't really working either. Some of my friends that also have accounts on here have been having multiple, various problems. When I get reviews, it usually comes in the form on an e-mail to my address letting me know what's up, but it takes days to even get to me, so yeah. Well, if you want, I could personally reply to you. I've gotten pms that seem to go much faster. I'm glad you like Jake's character, he's too much of a cutie to exclude. Well, you're going to have to read on to find out who was watching her, it'll be so clear in this chapter you're about to read. Oh, and yes, Lucas was there. Not to spoil anything, but Peyton will most definitely kick Blake to the curb. But I guess that's a given, Peyton just has to be with Lucas. They're too perfect for each other to not be together! Oh, and Brooke was just drunk, well, very drunk. _

_Ashley-In-Wonderland__ -- I'm glad you like the Jake and Rachel brother and sister thing, but just for further clarification, they are half siblings, with different fathers. So, they have different last names. Well, to answer your question, Peyton was Brooke's ride home, but when Peyton and Brooke were outside, Peyton said she was leaving. They said goodbye, and only after Peyton already left did Brooke realize that they both forgot Peyton was Brooke's ride home. And, you're going to have to read on to see who offered Brooke a ride. It'll be really apparent in this chapter. I love Nathan! That's right! How can you not love that hunk of gaged, eyelinered, gun carrying, hottie? Aha, well, I'll shut up now, I'm sorry for confusing you, I hope the next chapters will be more clear. _

_Kendra__ -- I know, it's kind of funny how we all love Nathan as a jock/spoiled/ass as well as a punk/gang/semi-ass. But he makes it work either way, huh? Hehe, well, I'm glad you like my version of Nate, I have fun writing him that way. I know, dude, me too. I mean I love jocks and pretty boys too, but also the mysterious guys who you have to keep guessing with. That's just so hott! Everyone loves a badboy! _

_OTHx23xTigger/BrookeandLucas/calixx/Brook__ -- Thanks you guys, I really love all the positive feedback. Makes my day, as does everyone else's. Thanks so much to everyone who replied. Let the story commence! There's the link to the song I used in this chapter, if you want to listen to it. Yeah, it's youtube, so I'm ghetto fab. ; _

_**Chapter Four -- We Don't Need To Whisper. **_

_**Peyton stalked through the bar area, shoving her way through drunken teenagers, attempting to find someone familiar whom she liked.**_

_Dodging someone's spilt tequila shot, she also avoided a random guy falling into her for support, instead he hit the ground with a crash. Peyton shook her head, and shrugged him off, and spotted the red head party girl leaning against the wall talking to two guys from the basketball team._

_"Hey!" Peyton yelled over the music, a few feet away from the preoccupied trio. She did feel slightly out of place, especially when interrupting Rachel when she was commixing with the crowd._

_"Hey baby!" Rachel cooed like a mother._

_Peyton's eyes narrowed, adjudicating inwardly if the red head was at present inebriated._

_Rachel amiably dismissed the couple of boys which suspended on reference to her every declaration._

_"What do you need babe?" Peyton timorously twirled her honey golden betwixt her thumb and middle finger, whose nails were painted a deep shade of black. "I wanted to ask you a question..." Peyton drifted off, and her voice was now growing softer as her soft voice progressed towards the end._

_Peyton watched as Rachel's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and with a nod of the head, she urged her on non verbally to continue._

_"Can we go somewhere a little quieter, I'm not really comfortable shouting this over the music." Rachel nodded._

_"Oh, a personal question huh?"_

_Peyton scratched the back of her nape of her neck, and nodded her head, "kind of."_

_Rachel looked at the blonde, and pointed to the top of the stairs, which her bedroom was located near. Taking another sip of the golden liquid in her red plastic cup, Rachel made her way to the stairs, following closely behind one of her very best friends._

_When they got to the top of the stairs, Peyton opened the door to Rachel's room, and saw two people laying on the bed making out. Two people that neither of them knew._

_"Get out." Peyton said with an exasperated tone._

_Rachel just gave a look of disgust, and bore whole's into their backs the entire time they blushed violently, straightened up, and stalked out of the room._

_When they heard the door shut close, Peyton exhaled a long, hard sigh, and sat down on the edge of the bed._

_Rachel rolled her eyes, and shifted her cup to the other hand. "Um, I thought that I made it perfectly clear over the years that I do not want anyone doing anything in my bedroom."_

_Peyton chuckled, rubbing her hands against her legs. "Well, I'm sure they were freshman, be easy on them."_

_"Freshies." Rachel scoffed with disdain._

_Peyton let out a hypertensive laugh, and shifted uneasy on the gigantic bed._

_"What's wrong with you?" asked Rachel._

_Peyton shrugged. "Nothing, I just want to know aboutthegangthing." Rachel raised an eyebrow, and tilted her cup away from her, balancing it at an angle in one hand. "Excuse me?" she asked._

_"You heard me." Peyton sighed, looking like her hand just popped out of the cookie jar._

_Rachel blinked, "Um, no I didn't, that's kind of why I asked you to repeat it."_

_She noted how Peyton suddenly found the ground so interesting, and wondered why she was acting like a virgin at a prison rodeo._

_"I wanted to know about the gang thing."_

_"What about it?" Rachel smiled._

_"Just, I don't know—whatever you know that's interesting."_

_Rachel became suddenly intrigued with each passing moment, and strode closer to sit on the bed beside the fidgeting blonde girl. "Well, the gang I know most about is the Kings. My brother is in it, I guess that's really how I know about it."_

_Peyton gave a forced smile when Rachel mentioned her older brother. She knew how much Rachel loved him, and how much she used to admire everything he did when they were younger. Then, one day, he became more distant, and the distance void simply grew bigger and bigger, until one day she hardly knew her brother anymore. She would always pretend that it never affected her at all, and carried on with her partying and playing. But inside she missed one thing more than ever, her big brother._

_"Remember when my father died when I was eleven?" Peyton nodded. "Jake was thirteen, and it really affected him. I mean, he was his only parent left, and then he was an orphan. Yeah, remember when I said that his mother died when he was a baby, she got in a car accident."_

_"Like my mom." Peyton sadly said in a hushed tone, remembering._

_"Yeah."_

_"Well, why did he act out so bad? I mean he had your mother, he knew her practically his whole life." asked Peyton, looking up at Rachel, who was now simultaneously switching between pursing her lips and biting them._

_"Yeah, but she wasn't his mother. So, he kind of rebelled, and started hanging around with them as a Mark."_

_Peyton raised her eyebrows as if to ask a silent question. "A wanna be gang member." she shrugged._

_Peyton showed that she understood, and urged Rachel on to continue._

_"After about two years of hanging around them, he finally jumped in. An initiation into the gang." she clarified. "Then he was a BG at fifteen."_

_"A BG?"_

_"Oh, a baby gangster." Peyton nodded again._

_"Then, he just sort of earned his way to the top over the years. Now he's nineteen, and probably one of the most powerful guys and leaders. Of course, no one is any more powerful than Nathan Scott. I guess the only reason he joined the gang was not because he was acting out because our father died, he did it because he wanted to get even with the gang who killed our father."_

_"How do you know that?" asked Peyton, truly intrigued._

_"Because the Kings are the enemies of the gang that killed him."_

_Rachel blinked back the tears, as she remembered how she had heard the news of her father's passing. Another classic gang scenario. Bought from pushers that were members of the gang, and when he fell back on his ability to financially compensate for what he used...He tried to avoid them, and eventually they decided that they didn't want to play any longer._

_They did exactly what they said they'd do to him. All the threatening calls, signs, and instances._

_"I'm sorry Rachel." She noticed quickly how her hott tears streamed down her cheeks, and harshly wiped them away._

_"So, they just live their lives like anyone else in a gang. I mean, they're not as bad as some other gangs. Somehow they manage to be the most notorious and dangerous gang, but minus the violence."_

_"How are they dangerous if they're not violent?" asked Peyton._

_"No, I'm not saying that they don't use violence, because they do. I'm saying they try to avoid it as much as possible, and when they do use it, they don't murder in cold blood, just hands on, a fair fight. They're not the kind of wussies that will shoot a child or an elderly for an initiation or just for fun."_

_She pushed a piece of fiery red hair behind her ear. "Unless it involves their rival gangs, especially the Bloods."_

_The two girls stayed silent for a few minutes, Peyton was processing everything that she had learned. And Rachel was digesting the pain of what had happened in her life six years ago._

_"Thanks for telling me all that Pipi-Longstockings, I mean I didn't mean for all those bad memories to come back to you."_

_"It's okay, talking about it doesn't make it hurt any less or erase it." she waved it off_

_Peyton embraced Rachel in a comforting hug, and after a few seconds, she patted her on the shoulder, before stalking slowly out of the bedroom._

_Grabbing the door handle, she heard her friends voice call her name._

_"Peyton?" she turned around. "why did you want to know, pulling a Brooke on me?" Rachel laughed._

_Peyton smiled and slowly started to open the door behind her back. "No reason, I was just curious."_

_Rachel smiled, and Peyton turned her body so she could walk out to the rest of the party, and Rachel let out a sigh. "Whatever you say P. Sawyer."_

_The night greeted the young adult, and the older teen trailing behind him. It seemed so much darker outside then it had seemed earlier, from the inside looking out. Even in the backyard with the pool seemed to be brighter. Must have been the lighting._

_Brooke tucked her hair behind her ears, which had fallen to her golden face like it had so many times before. Immediately, the realization of what she was doing hit her all at once like a ton of bricks. Blinking, she finally came to terms with the fact that she had been weak on so many levels._

_First of all, she was allowing her thoughts to wander to him all day. Next, she seemed to have formed a new condition of muteness, and started nodding her head incessantly like some random imbecile. Then, all that she had known as a firecracker went out the damn window the second her eyes met his amazing face._

_She inwardly smacked herself for letting herself lack that normal cocky attitude she had._

_They neared their destination, and Brooke to her first look at his 'car.' It turned out to be a motorcycle, she just didn't know which kind it was._

_She didn't think she'd have to._

_She was just a girl. As simple as that._

_Nathan, feeling the lack of presence behind him, turned to look at Brooke who was now glaring at the bike._

_He let himself let out a low chuckle from deep within his throat, the look on her face was priceless._

_He hadn't seen a girl that was afraid of his bike. She was different._

_He liked it._

_Nathan slung his left leg around the side of it, steadying himself on the grounded bike. Feet firmly planted on the dirty ground, and his hands gripping the handlebars slightly._

_"You coming?" he asked, without so much as an acknowledgement of turning around._

_His voice snapped her out of her daze, and she shook her head back and forth slightly to knock out the way she was acting. This was the way she hated feeling, like she could be intimidated by someone. This current behavior wasn't the norm for her, the normal Brooke Davis would scoff and give a seductive grin and compliment his bike. No matter how much she didn't love bikes, or the fact that she has never been on one. It wasn't every Tree Hill resident who had a Harley packed away in their two car covered garages. Or in her case, six car covered garage._

_I wanna have the same last dream again  
The one where I wake up and I'm alive  
Just as the four walls close me within  
My eyes are open up with pure sunlight  
I'm the first to know  
My dearest friends  
Even if your hope has burned with time  
Anything that is dead shall be re-grown  
And your vicious pain, your warning sign  
You will be fine_

_Walking the few feet that separated them, Brooke plastered on her sly smirk, and stopped short a few inches._

_Looking up and down the bike intensely with a sexy batting of eyelashes, she looked up at him and said, "nice bike."_

_He smiled, he scratched his dark hair covered head, and turned his head to lock eyes with her. "I know."_

_She could see what she had seen in his eyes so many times before, or what she couldn't see._

_His blue eyes screamed magnificent with a stormy questioning covering most. It was a mixture of pure cobalt and silver._

_No matter if some were threatened, scared, or intimidated by them, others were drawn in and simply captivated or mesmerized. Maybe not many, but Brooke was not many._

_Many were easy, gullible, had no or low standards, and were nothing more than cheap._

_She didn't want to be, and he didn't want her to be either._

_Now she felt herself climbing onto the bike behind him, grabbing the hand he extended to help her climb her way on. She settled herself comfortable behind him, trying to keep a few inches of distance between the two of them, and he turned around as she was doing so._

_"Nice accessory." he mimicked, but in all truth lacing his voice._

_She looked at his face, and noticed that he was looking quickly at her body. Following his eyes down to her navel area, she noticed that her camisole had ridden up slightly._

_"I know." she repeated his very own words not more than just a minute before to him, and he smirked slowly._

_Her hair was now being pushed back by her hands, and she watched as his neck turned back to the front and he started the bike and kicked the parking brake up._

_Her legs were brought up to stay on the side of the bike, and his was still firmly planted on the ground. She was guessing that it was so they wouldn't loose balance and topple over. Her head was facing the party and the house that she had stayed at habitually when she felt something cold ad hard tap her right shoulder. He was handing her a helmet that was black and silver, and matched perfectly with the bike. Shaking her head, she pushed the helmet and his hand away from her._

_He gave another laugh, and shook his head after putting the helmet away. They looked to the other guys who weren't too close and were already either gone or pulling out._

_He felt her put her small hands on the top of his shoulders._

_Hey oh here I am  
And here we go  
Life's waiting to begin _

_"Hold on." his voice was rough and low, she hadn't heard anything else since she had met him the very day before._

_"I am holding on." He chuckled lightly, kicked up his feet, and revved the engine._

_She nearly fell backwards when he jilted them forward while pulling harshly out of the driveway. Now he could feel her arms completely encasing his waist from behind._

_She could feel his body shake with laughter, even though she couldn't hear or see him, and she could feel her cheeks beginning to heat up._

_"So," he started, "where am I taking you?"_

_"Home." she said simply._

_A smile formed indolently on Nathan's handsome features, as he looked back at her face which now lay on his back._

_"Yeah, that really helps me a lot. Maybe you could help me by telling me which tree or shrub to turn by, or maybe which mongoose to follow." he grinned, almost predicting that she was blushing behind him. "Which street it's on would be good too." he ended._

_"Oh right," now her cheeks were heating up even more like he thought. She couldn't believe how ridiculous she was being just then. And she wondered if she was acting so weird because of him, or because of his illegal driving. They had to have been passing the speed limit thirty miles ago. "do you always drive this fast?"_

_Nathan smirked and turned to look at her so she could see him. Then, he turned back when he saw the panicked look on her face and he realized that she must have wanted his eyes on the road._

_"You didn't answer my question, or do you want to be driving around aimlessly holding onto me from the back, and breathing in the scent that is pure pleasure, that is me."_

_Aww, so he was a cocky one. She could be too._

_Who was she kidding, she had the imaginary class superlative as class bch stolen since day one._

_"Cocky much?" he eyebrow raised, holding onto his tighter._

_"Yes, very." he answered._

_He knew she was rolling her eyes, and remembered the exact color of them too. A mossy green with deep complexity, beautiful but still simple. With a hint of passion and fire that sparked a twinle that made her entire face light up. Well, he thought so, but not in so many words_

_He knew that he was cocky, and most girls loved that. They would fall at his feet just because of his face or because of his name. Whenever he would throw a smart remark their way, they'd simply laugh and lay kisses all over his neck._

_Not to say that he didn't love kisses being left up and down his sensitive spots, but he was a guy who loved a girl who had a mind of her own._

_"No seriously, where do you live, cause I won't just drop you off some random place where you can get raped."_

_Any type of love it will be shown  
Like every single tree reach for the sky  
if you're gonna fall  
i'll let you know  
that i will pick you up  
like you for i  
i felt this thing  
i can't replace  
when everyone was working for this goal  
where all the children left without a trace  
only to come back as pure as gold  
to recite this all _

_A breath hitched in her throat when she realized that his voice was nothing but serious. For some odd reason, she felt safe with him, and she didn't know why._

_Letting him know exactly where to go, she held on tighter to prevent herself from falling._

_The wind was fully alive and crushing volume of masses of air across their faces as they could feel the drizzle. It was light, but it seemed to be hitting them like massive pellets._

_Her head now lay on his back, and she could feel his muscles tense and flex under his heavy leather jacket separating their thing clothing touching._

_At times he could feel her clutch his chest roughly, holding onto him as if he was her only life support. Especially when they had a close shave in an assiduous or occupied driveway._

_She remembered the day before, when they had first met in that awkward situation. She had been withdrawn from him, and backed away like a person whose been burned. Now, she was clinging onto him for dear life, finding herself not wanting to let go, watching the large homes passing by._

_He smirked as he realized that she was completely oblivious to their being right outside of her home, even though she had told him how to get there. He wiped a drizzle drop off of his face, and slowed down into her humongous driveway. He took a look up at her home, and then looked back at her, who was gazing out into the night, obviously deep in thought._

_Realizing soon after she felt the bike slow to halt, she climbed off of the bike that was still vibrating from the stagnant engine._

_"Nice house." he whistled, surveying the place slightly with his eyes._

_Brooke shrugged, and wrapped her arms tighter around her for the sake of warmth. The drizzle that she could now feel was taking a toll on her._

_"I guess so." Looking down, she could hear him laugh, and knew that he was instinctively smirking wildly._

_He climbed off of his bike, and put the parking brake on while holding it up with his hands by the handle bar. He sat down on it sideways, sort of leaning against it gently. His arms were in his lap, and the engine was still running._

_"Thanks for the—" She started, but only to be cut off by his warm lips caressing hers in one swift motion._

_He could feel her body tense and she froze up as she didn't return the kiss. Few seconds passed, and he pulled back, due to lack of reaction._

_Their faces were now only inches apart, and both could feel the other's breath on their faces._

_"I didn't know you didn't want to kiss me..." He started trailing off, his voice showed no emotion whatsoever. His face showed no more than his voice was letting on. And surprisingly enough, that statement he just made was his way of apologizing. Nathan Scott didn't do formal apologies, he never actually said the word sorry in a hell of a long time. He didn't plan on doing so anytime soon._

_I can not live  
I can't breathe  
Unless you do this with me  
I can not live  
I can't breathe  
Unless you do this with me  
I can not live  
I can't breathe  
Unless you do this with me _

_"I just didn't expect it." She said half in front of his face, and most of the rest against his lips as she brushed hers against his once again, leaning up to the tips of her toes to reach his full six foot two._

_It was now his turn to be cut off by the other brunette, he could feel the tingly sensation of her lips on his like it was earlier. Only this time he could easily feel her reacting, as she melted into the kiss._

_Her arms instinctively traveled their way up his sides, chest, and shoulders, and she wrapped them around his neck._

_His tongue casually traced her rosebud lips as he placed his hands on her waist firmly, but gently. Parting her lips happily and quickly, he slipped into the access she had just permitted, tasting every single inch of her mouth._

_He left hand remained on her right hip, and his right hand found its way up a bit to the small of her back. He smirked as he felt the curvy arch of her lower back, and how sexy the slight hollow felt._

_She smiled into his wet, warm mouth when she felt him moan softly into her mouth._

_After a few more minutes passed by, Brooke was the first one to pull away for much needed oxygen. She felt like a virgin again who has just received her very first kiss, the way she was panting for breath made her feel like she was loosing her touch._

_He cursed under his breath, breathlessly, bedazed._

_He rest his forehead against hers, and looked deep into her eyes that twinkled, even through the night's darkness._

_She looked up into his as well, they were hidden beneath thick, dark eyelashes, but she could still see the amazing blue. There really was no one color adjective to properly describe his eye's shade of blue._

_Cobalt came pretty dam close though. Even though his eyes looked brilliant didn't mean that they dared show even a hint of emotion. His eyes and face remained just as stoic as always, the only difference was the need for oxygen face he was wearing._

_"Yeah, what you said." Her eyes were downcast, and he tried to catch her gaze._

_"You know, it's okay to swear once in a while." she rolled her eyes._

_He had his two fingers under her chin, and could have sworn that he saw her rolling her eyes, but shrugged it off and waited for her to look back up at him not more than a second later._

_"You should go." he spoke about the now rain drops and her shivering shoulders._

_Her arms came up instinctively to rub the opposite, and smiled a huge dimpled smile as she took a few steps back._

_"Thanks for a fun night."_

_I can not live  
I can't breathe  
Unless you do this with me  
I can not live  
I can't breathe  
Unless you do this with me  
I can not live  
I can't breathe  
Unless you do this with me_

_Her eyes sparkled with flirt, and he picked up on it, and changed his tone into one of a flirting as well._

_"You're a fucking amazing kisser." he started, rubbing his own jaw line._

_Brooke nodded, and looked back at him with a change of expression, "Well, have a nice life."_

_Old Brooke snapping back as she completely ignored his previous statement. Her tone lay completely free of any bitterness, just pure teasing, honesty, and disappointment._

_The realization of the fact that they didn't even know each other's last names, or that they were perfect strangers, or maybe the fact that they had hated each other the previous night hit her all at once._

_He watched as he saw nothing but her retreating back, and he swung his leg over the side of the bike, and straddled it, kicking up the parking brake, and revving the engine twice._

_He watched as she walked up to her big red door, and pressed the handle open. She was safely inside._

_But before she walked in and closed the door completely, he spoke up over the engine, loud enough for her to hear._

_"I'll see you later angel-face."_

_Nathan was now driving a bit when he recognized the house he was now passing by._

_It was the house that he had made an appearance at with Jake, the house that had thrown the party, the house that he had seen Brooke again for that second time at. And not the last time. He smiled at the look of surprise he had seen on her face, and walked away before he could promise her he would see her again. Nathan Scott didn't promise anyone anything, he simply kept to his word._

_Looking back into the mirror, he noticed that one bike was left in the driveway. He smirked when he knew exactly who it belonged to._

_Revving the engine harder, he propelled forward, and smirked satisfied, and drove off into the night, heading towards Wilmington._

_Brooke walked deeper into her house, and turned on all the lights in her path on the way to her room. When she got to her destination, she shrugged off her clothes, and slid on a pair of boxer shorts and a white boybeater._

_Picking up the phone, she dialed a familiar number._

_"Hello?" came the reply from the receiving end of the phone call._

_"P. Sawyer, what are you doing? You still at the party? I thought you left." which was why I thought I had no ride, which it why I took one with..._

_She found herself having to yell, because the sound in the background became to boisterous._

_Peyton held her cell close to her ear, and plugged her other with her finger to block out the sound._

_"Yeah, um I know I said that I probably wasn't going to stay, but I'm pretty occupied at the moment."_

_She could practically hear Brooke cringe through the phone, and make that disgusted face she always made when she mentioned any kind of sexual mention of her and Blake._

_Looking around, Peyton looked to the blonde at her right, who was now leaning against the doorway, and motioned five minutes._

_"No Brooke, I'm not with him."_

_Hey oh, here I am (do this with me)  
Here we go  
life's waiting to begin (do this with me)  
Hey oh, here I am (do this with me)  
Here we go  
life's waiting to begin  
life's waiting to begin _

_Peyton answered, already knowing the next statement waiting to shoot forward from her best friend's mouth._

_"Well who are you with?"_

_Peyton could hear her yell over the phone, but didn't quite get a chance to reply before her phone battery beeped and then died out._

_Peyton tried to turn back on her phone for one last once of power, but decided against it, and turned back to her earlier conversation._

_Brooke groaned anxiously, and closed her phone as she fell back onto her king sized bed.  
A single thought drifting through her mind curiously._

_Who the hell was Peyton with?_

* * *

_Upcoming, who was Peyton with? And a helluva whole lot more. Stay tuned, please read and review no matter what opinon. But no flames. _

_Fin._


	5. A New World, Miles From Home

**jamkagomeiloveinuyasha** -- I totally will use your idea and give you credit for it too. I just don't know when, 'cause it won't work anytime soon. But I could totally see that happening as the story progresses. Ah, boo, you don't like Leyton? I love them. Well, it's alright, 'cause Brooke will get crazy screen time---err---or story time...haha. She's my favorite character, so you'll be seeing a lot of her. "Pwn" means "own" except there's a "P" instead of an "O". Haha.

**othstewy** -- I'm glad you like it. Don't worry, this will not be a Blake/Peyton story, I mean, Blake who? Hehe, I just needed a character for us to hate for a while. Well, I'm really trying to not give away anything, but just keep in mind that this will ultimately be a Leyton fic. "wink wink" Kind of a hint for you. So, they will eventually get together whether now or later. But you'll find out if it's now soon. Thanks for the compliment on my writing. That really makes me feel good because I recently got bashed by "Flame Rising" mff.

**OTHx23Tigger** -- Hehe, thanks so much, I'm glad you think it was "amazing". "Blush". Well, get ready to love me crazy for what comes next!

**B.P.Davis** -- They're my favorite OTH couple ever! Always have been. Why couldn't Mark have made something like this happen between them? "Pouts". Maybe I will raise it to M, or just have one scene that will be a "viewer discretion advised" one. Hehe, I've only ever written one M rated scene, but I'm not sure if I'm too good at it. And it's a bit awkward for me, but I think I can compromise in a sexy/smutty but not totally explicit/smutty way. Dirty you, hehe. It's okay, Brathan will do that to you.

**apple01** -- Me too, I hate how everyone makes Rachel out to be some slutty bitch who is just pure evil. I mean, look at Brooke is season one. She had her bitchy and definitely slutty moments, but you just have to take a deeper look. I noticed that there weren't many fics where the girls are best friends, so I figured I do my part. There is seriously so much more Brathan in this next chapter. I hope you like it.

**Kendra** -- I think I know where Halfmoon Bay is, isn't that by British Columbia? Well, anyway, haha I seriously just cracked up when you were talking about the motorcycles. But Nathan and Lucas would be hotter riding on the bikes, especially Nathan, hehe. Yeah, I really wanted Nathan and Brooke to somehow have a connection deeper than physical even before they knew it. Like how they can sort of tell what the other is doing like you said. I know, I love bad boys, thus why I just had to write this fic. And people seem to love it, so that works out for all of us! I hope you like this next chapter.

**BRUCAS EQUALS LOVE** -- You know, I just noticed that I did post it twice. I don't know how that happened. Sorry if that confused you or anyone else. I actually confused myself when I reread it like a week ago. I was like, what? Anyway, thanks for the reply.

**nookieforever07** -- OMG, fangirl squeel. Your comment made me smile so much. I love when people compliment my writing, especially. 'Cause I love doing it, so it's all like payback when people appreciate what I write, I really try. I'm also glad that you can see the real characters acting the way I portray them to. It's definitely a tough job to write something so AU, not only because these two characters, namely Nathan and Brooke, don't interact much and certainly not romantically mff, thanks Mark. and make Nathan a gang member. But I'm really glad you like it.

**Ashley-In-Wonderland** -- Sorry about that posting the chapter twice, I think I copied and pasted it one to many times. I know, I could just imagine Nathan and Brooke on a motorcycle, and what could be sexier than that? Well, besides Dean Winchester. I just had to put them in on that bike. I think you're going to find out who Peyton is with in this chapter, or maybe not. But it really hints towards it, and in the next chapter you'll know flat out.

**elitekat** -- Thanks so much, I love Brathan too, they're just the hottest couple or AU couple on OTH aren't they? I'm pretty sure you'll love this chapter, 'cause it's some Bratha fluff. :)

**asharp4** -- I know, right? They're just so much alike, but also different in challenging ways it makes their chemistry grow even bigger. Nathan needs a challenge, whether he's punk or not, gang or not. And the only person who can give him a challenge is Brooke, Haley who? Haha, well not for Nathan. Anyway, Peyton is asking about the gangs because someone in it has intrigued her, but not gonna tell who. Smirks. I will explore Jake and Rachel's relationship, and even though they're not best friends they do love each other. All the guys are in the gang for the long haul for a while. It's not like they're just small parts of a big scary gang. They're part of the "Kings" and each gang has their own kind of branch. There's one "King" gang in that area of North Carolina with Nathan as the leader, and some of their other good friends as the main powerful guys. Like Lucas, Jake, Tim. Some other random guys who are my own characters will pop up as parts of their part of the gang, but lesser and less powerful. But Nathan's gang are all friends and they're not evil. Brooke isn't thinking ahead, she's just acting on impulse, and the story will deal with Brooke's struggle, and Nathan's as well as other people as they all realize that gangs don't mix with non gangs. And as for the gang making Nathan do something, he pretty much tells them what to do, but they're all in all a good gang who wouldn't rape someone or anything. Wow, I wrote so much, but yes, bad boys are hott. And so is Nathan Scott!

**midnightXwishesXunheard** -- I'm glad you like it. I like gang Nathan too, he's so hott this way. Lucas and Haley are coming in the next chapter. And you will find out about Nikki and Jenny in this chapter, but if you miss it, just let me know and I'll point it out to you. Don't worry, I ramble daily.

**bRuCaS.mAtchmAdeInHeAVen.nAley** -- You'll find out who Peyton was with in the next chapter. Hopefully you'll like her in my story, I'm totally ditching that whole Peyton and Lucas cheating on Brooke then kind of doing it again then Peyton finding out that Brooke and Nathan had a thing, thing. Mark sucks, we could use drama, but not surrealism. Anyways, enjoy.

**BrookeandLucas&&fightinggillini&&kaligator** -- Thanks to you guys so much and the rest of ya'll.

**Chapter Five // A New World, Miles From Home**

Loud music blaring, gallons of golden liquid being downed, drunken teenagers stumbling over one another, and one out of place ruffian fronting boy talking to one of Tree Hill's princesses.

Rachel made her way down the small descending staircase graciously, then descried Peyton conversing with a boy who was not as unfamiliar to her as to the remainder of the crowd.

Though the remainder of the crowd couldn't give an apothecaries' ounce of attention to the strange couple, or the mysterious boy who dressed like the other three.

The three of them arrived at the party at one point, casually made their way to the bedrooms, casting murderous glances at anyone who cast them questioning glares. Making no mistake in taking their precious time in finally arriving at their destination of the bedroom two doors to the left on the top of the stairs. They mingled with whomever they had chosen at anything but random, and grabbed drinks as they pleased from anyone's hands. This time from people at random, and walked around making long stops at anything that sparked their interests along the way.

When they did end up making their way to the stairs, and then to the bedroom of enigma, they walked into a dimly lit room and closed the door partially behind them. A black light in the room, casting a shadow through the three inch crack between the open door and the frame.

If you walked past to use another bedroom, or a bathroom, you'd hear hushed speaking in husky voices. It had the complete makings of something covert, something that you weren't sure you even wanted to eavesdrop on for your health.

Sometime later, after much inward discussion, the three boys along with the one that they had met up with were getting restless. One, decided he needed a breather, and walked a bit out to stretch his muscles.

He looked over to the grandfather clock ticking back and forth to his extreme right, and took note of the glass casting his reflection back to him. He looked at himself, cobalt blue eyes starting back into his eyes, and looked at the coal black liner that rimmed it. He smirked when he brought his left hand up to twist a blue dipped tip of black hair back into it's original composition. Turning his attention back to the crowd of kids probably only a few years younger than himself, he opened his arms to grab hold of the banister, and leaned his upper body forward, allowing his shoulder blades and back muscles to flex under his shirt, under the pressure.

A few minutes of the three remaining guys speaking in hushed tones, and him casting curious glances over the crowd. Soon, a fiery brunette caught his gaze, and he smirked as his eyes followed her walking figure throughout the mass of drunken kids.

He watched as she rubbed her neck, he knew that she felt someone's eyes on her.

He smirked when he knew exactly who they belonged to. _Him_.

The door opened, and the boys walked out of the room, and the one whose home they were in held a cigarette between his lips, and held both of his hands up to his mouth, and lit the cigarette with his orange, plastic lighter.

Blowing out a puff of smoke between his angled lips, he walked to stand next to Nathan. "What the hell are you staring at?" Jake asked Nathan.

He smirked in response. "Nothing, I just see something I like." he simpered. Jake looked at him, and patted his back. "Just as long as it's not the red head." He patted his back again, and walked away as Nathan turned back to him and smiled.

Tim laughed. "Nah man, I don't think it's the red head." reminiscing about the interesting night he and Nathan had before.

Nathan scoffed, blowing out a puff of smoke from the drag of Tim's cigarette he took, walking away in the opposite direction. "Whatever, I'm out."

"Where're you going?" Tim asked.

Not stopping to turn around, Nathan called back over his shoulder, muffled. "None of your fucking business."

Tim rolled his eyes, and walked back to the party behind Nathan, followed by the other two.

They spent the remainder of the tie lurking around the party, not wandering around, lurking around.

Jake spent most of his time upstairs in his bedroom, when all of a sudden he heard someone stumbling dangerously close to his room. He swung open the door, and a familiar looking girl crashed into his chest before falling towards the floor and he grabbed her before her body could absorb the fall.

A bit later of taking care of her, and his three friends no where to be found, the young girl stirred in his bed.

When she finally was alright, she walked downstairs in order to find her best friend. When she had found her, they resolved any loose ends, yet she found herself alone and looking for a ride.

A sober ride.

She found that in the two eyes that she felt staring at her. She was rubbing the back of her neck each time she could feel someone watching her.

He walked up to her, and she was too fazed to notice the three guys behind her. One was Jake, who was grabbing his jacket and his keys from inside his bedroom, closing the door on the way out. The brunette boy from the other night who was sucking on a vodka pop, and a good looking blonde she had seen earlier that night, leaning on the making his way past them to walk downstairs, to do what seemed like join the party.

He asked her is she needed a ride, and Brooke thought about it for a while, running over everything instilled  
in her mind since childhood, about not getting into a car with a stranger.

Oh well, I guess that completely went out the window when Brooke looked at the alternative. Right now, getting in a car with a stranger, and taking her chances with him seemed a lot more appealing than eating the pavement in a car with a drunken classmate.

He watched her nod, and shrugged ever so slightly, like he didn't really care either way. Leading her out the front door, he shrugged his jacket on over himself tighter.

Walking out into the night's air with only two other boys beside them, she had disregarded the fact that the one with dirty blonde hair hadn't been here.

Brooke was changing the channels, spooning through a carton of Haagen Daaz chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. (the best) She remembered the last parts of her night at the party (the four paragraphs before this one) when she thought about it.

That was who Peyton was with. _Maybe_.

Back at the party which was still neatly raging into the night with disregard.

Peyton brushed a single blond curl that fell to the front of her shoulder back, and swished her drink around in the red plastic cup it was in.

She was talking to this guy who she had not seen before in her life, but for some reason felt like they had always known each other.

She wondered if he felt the same about her.

Like they could talk about anything with ease, and he could be himself around her.

Even if they only just met.

She was utterly and truly surprised to learn that he loved reading Steinbeck, among other things.

He told her that it was always a good and relaxing was to get away from all the world's shit for a while.

The thing Peyton really admired about him was the fact that he didn't even so much as try and deny it. If he liked something, he said he did. He liked to read. He liked poets, and he had a good reason to.

The kind of person who would openly tell his friends that he liked something, he wouldn't be ashamed of it, and then deny it, while behind closed doors, pop out the goods. That was a man.

Now, he didn't look like your normal Tree Hill basketball player. He wasn't a prep, that was for sure. He was wearing a black leather jacket that went down past the rim of his jeans, and it looked heavy. It probably was, it was a guy's leather jacket; not like the ones made for girls, the kind that she had.

Somewhere along the conversation, she felt it getting hotter in there. He must have felt it too, because he shrugged out of his jacket, and that exposed his white tank top which exposed his arms. They were muscular, but in moderation. It wasn't like he had those bulging muscles the body builders had, with veins popping out through their skin. He was built, in a slender but masculine way.

His hair was dark blonde, had a sandy look to it, with the way it was tousled like he just rolled out of bed. His eyes were a deep blue that looked like crystals, and he had a sweet looking smirk, and when he smiled, his eyes lit up like he knew a secret. He had the shadowy starting's of a soul patch, and a very slight stubble coming in.

He laughed when she challenged him, she laughed at his laugh. It was too cute.

There were various tattoos spread sporadically across his biceps. She was positive he had tattoos on his back as well.

One in particular, stood out to her. It was actually nice looking, and she didn't approve of tattoos, although she almost let Brooke talk her into getting one about two years back.

His, had a flaming heart, with an arrow that looked like it was made out of ice, and dripping to liquid piercing through it. It was simple, but had a lot of detail at the same time. That was probably why her eyes were drawn to that one. Because it was so much less ostentatious than the rest. But, it also had two letters written in black through the middle to the top of it. It read, 'L.S.'

She had absolutely no idea what that meant. It was on his right bicep, and then her eyes trailed to his back, in her mind.

Those extra, multiple tattoos that she was sure he'd had, must have looked real good when he flexed his back. She smacked herself inwardly for even thinking about wanting to see him minus the shirt, she did have a boyfriend after all.

So he treated her like crap, so he had most likely cheated on her, so he didn't care about her.

That didn't mean that she wanted to even stoop herself to his level. Plus, she had never actually caught him in the act of cheating, so there was no reason for her to believe that he did.

He told her that he couldn't choose between Steinbeck and Hemingway when asked who was his favorite author.

She could never talk to Blake about anything like this. He would never take the time to sit down and talk about something meaningful, he would never analyze anything, or take anyone's words into prospect.

He would never look at her like she wasn't beneath her.

She was just some dumb cheerleader that didn't have a say in anything, she was his arm candy that he went to when he felt an itch needing to be scratched, and pretended to care about. Though he could have pretended harder.

She could hear the blonde boy speaking about something else, but she had to admit that she didn't catch much of anything.

That was kind of ironic, he hadn't initially talked too much in the first place. She was the one to get him to say something. Sure, he had started the conversation and came up to her first, saying hi. But she had to ask most of the questions, and when she did, he would answer in a one word response. When he asked the questions, she was the one to elaborate on her answer. Now, he was talking about something that obviously was fascinating to him, otherwise he most likely wouldn't have opened up so much.

Huh, that was what she considered opening up?

Oh well.

That was probably as much opening up as a rough looking guy with tattoos, a cigarette, and a leather jacket could do.

Tuning back in, she found he was talking about the way Steinbeck wrote, and everything that obviously had him intrigued. She liked talking to him about poetry and literature, it was something not many people wanted to talk to her about.

Not even her best friends would be authentically interested in that kind of stuff. Brooke tried to, but she could never sit still for longer than a few minutes unless she was doing something fast and crazy. There had been so many people that asked Brooke if she had been tested for ADD. She would reply, 'probably.' But the truth was, Brooke's parent's had made her get tested seven times; each time the results came back negative. Rachel really tried to understand the things that interested Peyton, but she was almost the exact epitome of Brooke. It scared people sometimes how much they were alike. But Rachel was less antsy when she put her mind to it. In other words—she didn't act like she was on a perpetual caffeine fix all the time.

But Rachel still wasn't completely interested in literature. She was more into which guy to bring back to her bedroom each week. That was also a favorite of Brooke as well, again something that Rachel and Brooke shared.

She could never bring herself to do anything like that, it wasn't her style. It's not like she wouldn't want to forget about the world for a night, and wash away her fears temporarily with alcohol. She has done that before, but it's never been something she loves to do. Not like Brooke and Rachel who did that stuff for fun, and never let a thing bother them.

Not a thing.

She sometimes wished that she could be more like that, feeling nothing at all. Feeling numb, which was ideal. She always awoke the next morning wether or not there was a guy laying next to her, wether or not she was clothed, wether or not she was at a party, feeling empty. She wished that she could feel nothing, because feeling nothing felt better than feeling bad.

They spoke for a while longer, when everyone else was in a bedroom, or in the kitchen, or by the keg, or maybe even hugging the porcelain bowl, they were in the corner of the living room, both sober as daylight, and talking about literature.

Two strangers that wouldn't be too strange together.

Moments passed, or so it only felt like it. When they looked at the clock, it told them they were there talking for two hours, up into the early morning hours. The only thing that broke them apart was the sound of his cell phone ringing, muffled in his jeans.

"Steven Tyler," Peyton said, referring to the singer of the song playing on his phone. "he's a fly gator."

He looked at her like she had just grown another head, at her attempt to talk in older rock and jazz slang.

After answering his phone, he nodded a bit and spoke to the receiving participant of the phone call, before shutting the older looking flip phone to end the call.

He shrugged into his jacket, and his face turned indifferent once again. The way it had been all night, though his cold expression didn't match that Nathan guys. Not by a long shot. No one's did really.

He told Peyton he had to cut out of there, and she nodded before he turned away and headed in the direction of the front door.

He turned back to her, and said that she was a fly chick. She really wasn't sure wether he was making fun of her, or if he was serious.

Peyton called after him, asking for his name. He turned around, saying it so softly for only her to hear.

Peyton smiled, whispering to herself. "Lucas."

She wondered if he needed her name, maybe she would see him again, maybe not.

He glance back at her when he did reach the front door, he gave her a look up and down followed by a reassuring smirk before he slid out of the home, and shut the door softly behind him.

For some reason, Peyton smiled when she looked forward to the next time she'd be seeing him. She knew that she would see him again, and her grin widened.

She heard a voice pop into her thinking from behind, causing her to turn around while still smiling.

"Hey, what's gotten you to look like the Cheshire cat?" asked Rachel, narrowing her eyes down at her.

Her voice was oddly sober tonight, though of course she was a little bit tipsy. "Nothing." She tried to turn away, but Rachel grabbed her by the arm gently and forced her to come back to her.

"Wrong answer Sawyer," her face was now dead serious. "don't think that I'm an idiot. I saw you with Lucas Scott. He's not a good guy Pey, you shouldn't be hanging around those guys."

"Your brother is one of those guys." she challenged.

She wondered why Rachel was getting all mama hen all of a sudden, it didn't occur to her that something like this could really bother her. Maybe she was jealous of her? Maybe she liked Lucas.

"Yeah, well you don't see me dating him."

Peyton shrugged her shoulders, and Rachel stood in front of her, not letting her get away for the second time that night.

"Where were you all this time?" Peyton changed the subject, not because she wanted to, but because she honestly was curious.

Though it wasn't like she didn't know what she was doing in the privacy of her room.

Rachel grinned stupidly, and arched her eyebrows suggestively. "Rachel! Why can you have sex with any and every guy you want to, but I can't even talk to one?"

"Because I'm not having sex with a guy that could possibly get me killed!" she snapped. Rachel sighed, bringing up her right pointed finger, gesturing for Peyton to come with her. Turning around on her heels, Rachel directed her steps to the staircase she had just come down, hoping her room was now empty.

Peyton actually listened to her, but Rachel turned back around a few times to verify it. When they got to her bedroom door, Rachel lay her small hands on the knob, letting it creak open before she let out a breath of relief at the abandoned room.

Peyton did not need to walk in on some random guy pulling up his pants.

Rachel sat down on her bed, the foot of it going down just a bit from her weight.

Telling Peyton to close the door, Rachel crossed her legs as Peyton did so.

"Look, I can have sex with them cause like I said, I don't sleep with those kind of guys. And even if I did, it would only be a one night thing. No strings attached, uninvolved, no real chance to be in danger. You however, I saw the way you were looking at that guy. If you had the chance, you would date him. Not just let him score the jackpot for a night, which like I said, is safer. I just want you to be safe." she said gently.

Peyton's eyes softened as she sat in a chair that went with the vanity next to Rachel's bed. "Rachel, for one thing, you're wrong. I do not like that guy, I don't even know him. I have a boyfriend also."

"Who you probably haven't seen the entire night, am I right?" challenged Rachel, crossing her arms, and cringing at the mother hen 180 she did with Peyton in the past few minutes.

Peyton looked down, and her hands busied themselves, twiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Right."

"Rachel, I don't know what you're saying. You're hinting to me that I should break up with Blake, but you also are telling me not to get involved with one of 'those guys?'" Rachel opened her mouth to speak, but her best friend spoke again. "And what exactly are 'those guys?'"

What difference does a stoic facade or bubbly disposition have? You should never judge a book by its cover.

Sometimes an indifferent person could be one who had been waiting to open up to something no one else cared to ask. Sometimes a stoic person could smiled brightly instead of smirk when you weren't looking. And sometimes a bubbly, energetic person could be crying on the inside, but a hell of an actor, hiding the pain away from the rest of the world.

"They're gang members Peyton, they have guns, they have knives, they get in fights for fun."

"I though that you said you were happy that Jake was in a gang, and that he's getting revenge on the gang who killed your father."

"I never said that." Rachel whispered.

"You were hinting it." said Peyton, softly, not wanting to rekindle any bad memories for her friend.

"True. But it's not like I told Jake he needs to go do this. That was his choice, and believe me, I'm not happy about that. But he made his own decisions, and no one could tell him otherwise."

"Well why can't I make my own decisions?" Peyton smacked herself on the inside. Now she made it look like she really liked the guy.

Rachel smirked, but not at all pleased. "You can't make your own decisions because you're not half as street smart as Jake is, he's a guy, he can handle himself. Girls are more fragile, girls get raped, girls get treated like crap, and even my standards are higher, and that's pretty low!" she had tears glistening in her eyes.

And Peyton wondered why. Perhaps it was because it killed Rachel to admit that she would basically have sex with any guy not bad looking, and under a fifteen year age difference.

She felt bad for this. The second time in the night she had spoken to one of her two best friends, and each time she made her cry. Well, the first time wasn't her fault, but she did feel guilty for this one. Peyton felt like the only person who could do anything to make her feel better was her. Because she knew how it felt to have a parent dead. How hollow your heart felt, how you wanted to do anything to take that back. To the point where you would give yourself to have them back. But then she thought about what Rachel had admitted to be doing previously before she had come downstairs to find her.

"Jake had this girlfriend." she started slowly, and Peyton padded closer to her. "Her name was Nikki, and he was in love with her, or so I think. Even though she was a royal bch." she sniffled, letting Peyton push locks of her red hair behind her ear. "Well, one day she got pregnant, and a few months after that, there was a drive-by. They were outside of some random bar, where they used to usually hang. Well, she took a bullet to the side, but I guess all that blood lost wasn't good for the baby, or for her. Jake lost both of them in one night, his girlfriend, and his baby."

"Pipi, I'm sorry." said Peyton, rubbing her upper back slowly, trying to relax her.

Peyton blinked a bit. She had to admit that she was utterly shocked by what Rachel had just revealed to her. Sure, you hear those kinds of things happening in New York, maybe down in Compton, but not North Carolina. Not so close to home.

"She wasn't even in the gang Peyton. She was just a gang member's girlfriend, who had absolutely nothing to do with it. They don't care Peyton, the rival gangs just hate each other. And especially the 'Blood's' rivalry against the 'Kings.' The mission of their goal is to hurt anyone close to anyone in our gang. Even if it's women and children, they'll aim for them too. Just to hurt us, and it works. Jake was a shell of himself. Couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. I've never seen him so depressed."

She took a deep, loud breath, and Peyton brushed some hair off her face, which was sticking to her cheeks, complementary of her tears.

"And then I'm always so worried about Jake, and I don't want to loose my brother, but he's just so damn stubborn. And I won't loose a sister too." she cried.

Peyton felt tears come to her own eyes, and the other thing she also felt was her pain. "It's not like I'm going to marry the guy, I'm just talking to him." Peyton said.

"Well please stop." Rachel said, she sounded so much like a broken little girl. "I'll stop." Peyton promised, though she wasn't so sure she could.

Peyton wasn't too used to Rachel acting this way. She was always the carefree, crazy girl with no regard to safety or commonsense whatsoever. But apparently this was something that really hit hard to Rachel, something that maybe Peyton didn't even understand after all.

Peyton could start to wrap around where Rachel was coming from. For some reason though she felt safe with Lucas. Even if she only knew him for a few hours.

He was the gang member, and Blake was the rich basketball player whom received all the breaks. Though she couldn't help but feel safer with Lucas that she had even felt with Blake. Was that weird?

Huh, you really shouldn't judge a book by its cover after all. And that's what people tend to call irony.

Brooke spent most of her night tossing and turning, tangled up in the high thread count sheets of her king sized bed.

She hadn't meant to, really. Obviously, she couldn't help her thoughts; she was sleeping after all. Her dreams were filled with a certain somebody with a striking midnight cobalt stare, that bore holes into her soul, mesmerizing her, and sweet lips that left hers tingling as they subconsciously turned up into a smile in her dreams.

She had only known him for maybe forty-eight hours, and she couldn't seem to get him off her mind.

The next day dawned over the small town on the coast of North Carolina.

School started again as usual, and no one was any too happy about it. Brooke strolled up in a sexy stride, which left the freshman gawking, and the upperclassmen grinning. Rachel unfastened the lock of her locker, after spinning the combination in, and turned to her favorite brunette.

"So, where did you get off to last night. Or should I say who did you get off last night? Cause you sure as hell weren't around when I was lookin' for ya." asked Rachel.

Brooke shrugged, "I had a very important engagement to attend to."

Rachel traded her history book for her English, and closed her locker again. "Well, let's just make sure that he's not a teacher this time, huh?"

Rachel grabbed at Brooke's arm, and looked at her locker again before relocking it. They started walking slowly down the enclosed hallway, the middle seeming to be reserved in its pathway for them.

"Okay, excuse me," she waved a finger up in protest. "but that was your fault, and I don't want to relive that trauma."

"Details, details." said Rachel.

They stopped outside of their next class, and almost crashed into Peyton who was walking in from the opposite direction.

"And where were _you_ P. Sawyer?" Brooke asked, knowing fully well, but wanting to hear it from her best friend's mouth.

Rachel sent a small warning glance in Peyton's way, and they both just assumed Brooke had missed it. She didn't. "Come on, you can tell me." said Brooke.

Peyton opened her mouth slowly, but the bell rang like a reflex.

Rachel shrugged, holding on tighter to the bag at her side. "Oh well, that was the late bell. We better haul $$ before Mr. Shrieffer kicks it." she said, waltzing in.

"I know who you were with." Brooke taunted, fixing the strap of her backpack.

Peyton arched one of her eyebrows, and looking up through her slight bangs at Brooke, whose smile faded.

"Well I don't know exactly who, but I know he was blonde, and part of the gang, and was really hott, and could kick Blake's $$. Hell, I could kick Blake's $$."

"Yeah, and I think I know who you were with. He's brunette, and hott, and dangerous, and Rachel will kick your $$ if she finds out." Peyton turned to get through the doorway, but felt the pull of her arm as Brooke wanted to hold her back.

"What do you mean Rachel will kick my $$?"

Peyton groaned, exhaling. "I mean, don't go around advertising." she turned, and walked through, shifting quite uncomfortably as the teacher watched her impatiently from his desk. "Come on, we're going to be late."

Brooke looked puzzled, but walked in after Peyton, and past her teacher's desk, which was adjacent to the door.

"We're already late, why could you not just tell me?" Brooke muttered, walking to her seat in the back of the corner on the far side of the room. "I'm so confused." she whispered, as she pulled out her notebook and pen to take notes on the lecture.

Peyton sat in her chair, slumping back as far as she could go without completely falling under the tabletop of the desk, and getting stuck.

She didn't care to do that again. The last time was in the middle of health, and they were talking about Chlamydia and not getting pregnant, because you will die. Brooke had accused the 'guest speaker' of masturbating to Mean Girls. There were so many things wrong with that day. With that lesson. Didn't they already have this talk like in eight grade? And why did they have to bring in a guest speaker to talk about things they knew when they walked down that certain isle of the supermarket.

And to top it all off, Peyton fell completely on her back, and got stuck, having much difficulty getting back up, even with the teacher's and they student's next to her's help.

Now back to present time, Peyton began thinking about how she spoke to Brooke. She acted like she was disapproving of her off gallivanting off with some random gang member.

Peyton cringed when she distinctly remembered herself telling Brooke that he was dangerous. Well, she was with Lucas, and when Rachel had freaked out, she thought it was completely irrational. Was there any gang member that wasn't dangerous? It was weird. She didn't see how harmful it could be to even get at all involved with any form of gangster, until it was her own personal friend who was not her.

Now she understood a little more, how Rachel had felt. Not completely, but kinda. She tucked her number two pencil behind her left ear, laboring her blond goldie locks behind her ear.

Well, it's not like we're marrying these guys. We're not even dating them. Brooke sure as hell doesn't want a boyfriend, and I already have one. I just don't see the danger in having some fun.

Bells ringing throughout the high school of Tree Hill sent the message that school for the day was out. Not that the bell ringing would be the only way of signaling freedom. About ninety percent of the student-body checked the perpetually ticking clocks every five minutes, pissing their teacher's off.

None more pissed than Mr. Woolery, Brooke, Peyton, and Rachel's eight period class teacher. He was their creative writing teacher. And Brooke really loved him. He would continually let Brooke joke about him, among other things, and occasionally join in as well. He honestly saw her as the way he would have liked a child of his to turn out. Since his wife, Mrs. Woolery, who also taught at the school, in the English department, was pregnant, he hoped for a girl just like Brooke Davis. Though, when she overdid something, he let her know it, in detention. Like today.

"Nice job Brooke, now I have to go home with Peyton." Rachel complained.

Rachel stood in the doorframe, leaning against it casually, with her arms folded over her chest, and with hands tucked under her armpits.

Peyton was across the hall, in the locker room, getting her things packed up since basketball season was officially over. No more practice. No more games. No more Blake everywhere she turned. And you might think that her not cheering, and him not playing basketball would open time for them to spend together, you're wrong. See, Blake was also on the football team. Half-back. And football wasn't something Tree Hill was too prestigious about. So, the cheerleaders didn't work as hard to cheer on a team they knew were going to lose.

Brooke was sitting on the edge of the teacher's desk, and she was looking around at all the nick knacks the teacher had left on his desk.

"I heard that, and I do not drive that scary." said Peyton. Rachel rolled her eyes and responded quickly. "Please." she scoffed. "When was the last time you drove speed limit or under? Five years ago?"

"Hey, I make sure to drive speed limit at all times." Peyton defended herself.

"Yeah," Brooke said, opening a parenting magazine. "Peyton drives speed limit all the time."

Rachel had a mock look of betrayal and hurt upon her face, while Peyton nodded her head in appreciation.

"Thank you." she said, strapping on her cheer standard duffle bad, and plopping her hand down mid air upside down, as if she were pointing out something painfully obvious.

"Yeah," Brooke said softly. "she just drives like a Mexican grandma, with a grasshopper in her ear, and an expired licence on speed, or crack, or whatever, I don't do those kinds of things."

Rachel erupted in laughter, and looked either shocked or embarrassed, Brooke couldn't tell. "See, now if only my mom would just be normal and buy me a car, I wouldn't have to defy death and hold on for dear life in that crap car."

"Hey, dude. I will have you know, that that car is a classic."

"I know." said Rachel, rolling her brown eyes, pushing Peyton aside. "It's ugly."

Peyton started out, pursing her lips at the insult. "It's a—"

Brooke and Rachel spoke together, simultaneously. "Classic."

"We know." breathed a depressed Brooke. Rachel added. "Yes, you've told us many, many times."

Peyton scoffed, and twirled her hair in her hand before opening her mouth again. -"So, what kind of car do you want, Pipi Longstockings?" "I want a Lamborghini." she smiled, with a little bounce in her step, and she pushed off the wall.

"A Lamborghini," Peyton said. "aren't those kind of flashy,—"

"Tacky, and gross?" Brooke finished for her. "Yeah." "You have a Porsche." Rachel pointed out.

"Well, at least I don't have doors that open upwards and a detail job that screams notice me."

Rachel made a noise that shrugged Brooke off, and Peyton made a move to back Brooke up. She didn't know why. Brooke was the one that sided against her when speaking about her driving skills.

Mr. Woolery so kindly cut the conversation short as he walked into the room, holding a stack of papers from his other classes that had yet to be graded. "No chit-chat, this is detention. And get off my desk please."

He dropped the stack of papers that he had been holding, and made Brooke jump. She jumped off the desk, and walked to stand straight in front of him, leaning slightly over the desk, as his plopped himself down in the chair. "And just where were you Mr. Woolery?" she asked, leaning her chin on her hands.

"Getting my papers to grade." he said tiredly, minus looking up, and just grabbed at one paper at the top of the stack, and put that in front of himself along with the answer key.

"What am I getting in your class?" "An F." he said, not bothering to look up at her.

"Oh, you jokester you. No really, what am I getting?"

"An F if you're friends don't leave right now." he said absently.

Rachel and Peyton looked up from their positions in the doorway, and looked straight at Brooke. "Well bye." Rachel waved. "Wait," Brooke called. "Is there any chance that ya'll could wait and we could ride home together like we always do?"

"Not a chance." Peyton walked away, with Rachel in tow, but not before she called over her shoulder. "And _that_ was for making fun of my driving skills." "And that was for insulting my future baby." Rachel referred to the car.

And they started walking away. You could hear the footsteps walking away, and Brooke turned back to her teacher.

He told her that she only had to stay for twenty minutes, and to stop sulking.

She plopped herself down in one of the chairs nearest to the door, so she could get a clean fix the hell out of there when the time came.

Brooke kept on checking the clock at what she felt was only every five minutes, but in actuality was really about every two and a half minutes. They just sat there in an uncomfortable silence. Brooke was never one to sit still without talking for long.

When Brooke peered back over her right shoulder to check what time it was again, a sharp voice cut her off. "Would you quit with the checking the time every two seconds please. It's only been eleven minutes."

Brooke frowned, and wanted to tell him that checking the time was the only fun and entertainment she was having so far, but held her tongue to prevent any further detention.

"Trust me, I know how long it's been." he must have caught that confused look on Brooke's face, since he hadn't once turned his eyes upwards. "I have my watch here, and I'm keeping track. I don't need to hang out with you longer than I have to." he joked.

"I don't find that very humorous." her face serious.

"Sorry...I...just..." he hadn't meant to hurt her feelings.

"Relax Mr. Woolery," she smiled. "I was just kidding. I wanted you to pull that sick from your $$."

"Brooke Penelope Davis, you do not use words like that, or talk to me like that." he scolded, but not at all in a mean way.

"Sorry." she cringed. "Seriously, I can't believe I'm here in detention with you. I just want to go." she said quietly, talking more to herself.

"Just be quite for crying out loud." he laughed, and turned back to his papers.

When the time came, he told her she was allowed to leave, and she all but jumped for joy at the glorious thought of being able to move her limbs freely.

He asked her if she's ever been tested of ADD.

She was walking out the door, and packing her things. Zipping up her bag after putting something in it, Brooke said,

"Seven times." and walked out before he could have a chance to reply or answer to that.

To Brooke, it felt like she had been wasting a huge chunk of her life that she will never be able to get back. Call her melodramatic. Call her whatever you want. She was bummed that she had to be there. If there was ever a perfect definition for a waste of time...

Stopping short when she looked up into a pair of familiar eyes, she dropped her keys to the ground. The keys she had recently fished out of the front of her bag on her way walking out of the school's premises.

Her mouth stood agape. : o —like this.

She looked amused to see her reaction. And truth be told. She would have probably cracked up laughing at called that person a loser, had it not been herself.

Brooke Davis was never a loser. She was never anything short of perfectly confident when it came to boys. She never blushed around boys. She never acted like a loser when it came to boys.

She found herself wondering what was it about this boy, this boy who made her feel like she couldn't hanlde herself? She had only briefly met him the other night, and he was making her act all giddy. Something that she hadn't felt since Kindergarten.

_Wait, why is he at my school?_

Recovering from her momentary brain freeze, she snapped back into her persona, and sexily bent down to pick up her keys.

A reaction? She didn't find one. She looked. But she didn't find one. There was no shock or surprise. Not that she expected that from him. But no licking of the lips, no arching of the eyebrows. No even that.

Why was he always so show no emotion?

Walking up to him, her hips swaying prettily back and forth unintentionally, Brooke stood until she was nearly inches apart from him.

He looked down at her, and his eyes flickered with something she couldn't distinguish. That was the only type of reaction she had gotten from him. And that was a lot, coming from him.

Brooke opened her mouth to speak, but got cut off by him saying something as her tossed away the cigarette he had been smoking.

"Where the fk were you, I've been waiting here for like an hour." he said, as he pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning on.

Brooke stood at a loss for words. Not that she was now unconfident again, but really, what are you supposed to say right now? You barely know this guy, and all of a sudden he shows up at your school, waiting for you, and he's acting like it's the most natural thing in the world. Like it was some sort of learned docket.

She said the first thing that came to mind.

"I had detention. And it was only twenty minutes." she corrected him.

"Twenty minutes, right." he brushed his hand through his dark locks quickly. "It felt like a fuckin' hour." he groaned.

Brooke-"Could you please stop swearing?"

"Does it bother you?" he challenged.

"Duh idiot, other wise I wouldn't have said it." she exclaimed sharply.

He had no look of shock or any kind of conventional emotion, even slightly resembling a daze of stupor.

Though he had to admit that he gave her her props for that. There really weren't many girls that would get right in a known gangster's face, threaten him like she did the first night they had met each other, or give him any lip either.

She was interesting. He grinned, and turned around, to walk away from her. She walked away in a different direction, headed for her car so she could get home.

"Where the hell are you going?" he asked her. She turned on her heel, and plopped her hands on her hips.  
"To my car." Brooke said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"No." he replied simply. "Excuse me?" she countered, challenging.

Nathan sighed, looking down at her smaller frame. "Do you really have to make everything so complicated?"

"What can I say, it's the Davis charm." she extended her arms, making a punctuation mark to the point she was trying to make,

"Follow me." his voice was dark and husky like it usually tended to sound. Though, for some reason, it sounded a bit more dangerous and mysterious.

Of course, Brooke being the curious girl that she was, let her body take on a mind of its own, letting life take her where it may. Yeah, take me to a garbage can in pieces.

She could have stayed back and done the ever so prudent thing of kindly declining, getting into her car, and going home with the doors locked. Or she could plunge into the unknown like a desperate horny man taking a hooker for two-hundred and fifty dollar worth ride.

She could put her keys in her backpack, walk into his direction, pass him, heading for the 2002 Suzuki VS 800 Intruder sitting across the far side of Tree Hill High School's parking lot.

Oh, wait. She did do that.

"So, you got a helmet or not?" she called over to him from his bike.

He smirked, and watched her interestedly as she brushed a piece of her copper colored hair from one side of her face to the other, thanks to the wind.

Strolling up to where Brooke was looking rather annoyingly impatient, Nathan grabbed out a helmet from the seat's compartment.

Holding it out, he expected her to grab it and strap it onto her head. Instead, she smacked his hand gently away, shaking her head back and forth, taking a seat on the back of his bike, leaving enough room for him to sit down.

He chuckled and patted her leg lightly to tell her to move. She got off for a second, but didn't miss the glance he sent in her lower region's way. She looked appalled for a second, before he gave her a look that said, You're the one wearing a skirt. So sue me.

He reopened the compartment stationed under where their butts were supposed to be, and she sat back down with her backpack in between her legs.

"Not everything is a free exhibition show, you know." "Right." he said, distantly.

He climbed on and sat in front of her, feeling the backpack and corners of books protruding into his backside.

He turned back around swiftly, and took a hold of the red and hott pink starred bag. She looked startled, with a little sexy pout on her face, and closed her legs as best she could. Well, as well as she could straddling a bike. 

"Relax cookie, I'm not gonna check out your goods like a pervert. I just would very much like to get this thing that feels like a dick stickin' me in the back away from my back. And trust me, that's a very uncomfortable feeling."

She rolled her eyes, and watched as he placed the back not so gently on the back of the blue and black metallic bike.

"Don't do that, it's gonna fall!" she exclaimed.

"You can afford another one. Being the rich bch that you are." he smirked. "Don't call me that, please." she said softly.

He was surprised that Brooke didn't demand anything this time. She spoke close to a whisper, and looked down when she said this. She also resembled so frighteningly, a broken little girl, all but pleading with him to not brand her with the socialite title.

"I was only joking." Again, that was Nathan Scott's way of apologizing. The words, I'm sorry just didn't seem to evolve in his vocabulary. At least not together.

Brooke-"Whatever," she brushed it off. "just please don't let my bag fall off the back of the bike. It's not just about my bag, I have homework in it I've worked really hard on, and I don't really want to get an F."

"So, a smart bch huh?" he asked, staring her down. "Quit callin' me bch, bch." She watched him for a taken aback expression. Anything at all that resembled something of the sort. Nothing.

"You got balls kid." he said. "I'm not a kid," she exclaimed sharply. "and my bag rides up here with us." she said firmly, while plopping her bag in the middle of them.

Nathan rolled his eyes and had an annoyed look covering his voice.

"Great," he started the bike. "now I have to feel like some gay bch is gettin' off on me." he sighed, and revved the engine while he used his feet to back the bike of out its parking position by a near-by wall.

"What is it with you and the word bch?" she asked.

"What can I say?" he shrugged. "It's a phase I haven't exactly outgrown yet. Hold on."

"I think I can handle—uhh!" she moaned, as he tore out of the lot. He laughed hard when she clung tightly onto him. Squishing the bag tightly between them.

Maybe I should have gone slow. Then it wouldn't feel like I've got a raging hard-on stabbing me in my backside.

They were off into the afternoon, with the sun's setting colors beating down oh their faces. She leaned her head on the back of his left shoulder, and closed her eyes, awaiting all new experiences.

Peyton and Rachel had taken off a while ago in Peyton's car. Rachel had asked her to drop her off at home, but wait outside. She had to get something. And she'd be right back.

Peyton did as Rachel asked, but while she was waiting outside of her best friend's house, her thoughts couldn't help but wander.

Those blue eyes, and his tousled blonde hair, looking at her with a mischievous glint in his orbs.

The way he remained unwavering, and unfaltering. Yet, when they started to speak about literature—something he obviously was very passionate about.

She remembered how she could talk to him about so much more than Blake would let her.

Blake was the kind of boyfriend that would cut class for fun, and walk away to smoke with his friend's to look cool. Those are the kind of people that really piss off the rest of the world. The kind of people who do things to fit in. Not when you actually like it.

Some people drink because it's the in thing. Some people kill themselves because all the cool kids are doing it. Some people get high because it makes them look tough.

Some people drink because they like the taste of alcohol. Some people kill themselves because they can't stand to live anymore, after the silent battle held with lips closed. Some people get high because it's their escape from the world that kicked them too many times.

Some people. But not Blake.

He was the kind of person who would call their girlfriend in the middle of class, while he was outside looking cool. The kind of guy who demanded to know where his girlfriend had been the night before, when he had been out screwing one of the girls on the volleyball team.

Peyton stepped out of her stupor when she heard the passenger door shut loudly, and Rachel snap her out of her daze. "Somewhere over the rainbow Peyton! Pay attentión." she said the last word in a French accent.

"Attentión?" she mimicked, raising her eyebrow.

Rachel shrugged, and turned on the radio, setting a box in the back seat. "I'm from Louisiana, shoot me."

"What's in the box?" asked Peyton, genuinely curious. "That's for me to know, and for you to find out."

"You can also walk to wherever you're making me waste my gas to." said Peyton. "We're going to the record store. There's some cd's needing turning in." said Rachel.

"Ooh, and does a certain 3rd person Kellar work there?" said Peyton, giving Rachel a strange look. "Oh, shut up Peyton."

Peyton backed out of the driveway, not bothering to start up the car since it was running while Rachel went in and grabbed a few nick-knacks. Or cds.

The top was down, and Rachel was making waves in the wind with her right hand, which was sticking out of the window.

When they did finally reach the record store, Rachel gathered up her unwanted cd's and grabbed the two that had haphazardly fallen out onto the black leather seats during the wild ride. "This is proof that you're a bad driver." she said, holding up one of the cd's from one side of the car.

She backed up, and put the cd in the small cardboard box, stuffing it under the area between her elbow and her armpit. She swung the door closed with her right hand, and then grasped the box in both hands, walking confidently up to the front door, which was open.

Chris was stapling up new posters and adds, trying to get it in the right positions, so more could fit on the bulletin board.

Looking to his left, he heard footsteps walking in and looked at the beautiful redhead standing in the doorframe holding a small cardboard box in her hands, with her perfect, long fingers clasping at the edges, and manicured nails showing.

Behind her, was the other girl who he had gotten into it a few times with. As much as she pissed him off, he had to admit that she was also gorgeous. Her black leather jacket clinging to her slim form, and her bouncy blonde curls brushed back behind her ears. But Rachel, she had her hair board straight, and he wondered if that was from girly hair straightening crap, or natural. She wore a small black t-shirt that covered most of her body. But clung to her curved, slim torso, making her look conservative but still sexy. The words on the front indicated that it was from Hurley. Her smile was wide, and to him, there was something cute that glittered in her chocolate brown eyes when she was excited.

"Come to check out the new entertainment in this crap-hole of an excuse for a town, or me?" he held his palms to his chest and rose his dark blonde eyebrows.

"Is that your ego talking or your hair?" Peyton asked, walking in past Rachel, who was still holding onto the box.

"My hair." he said confidently. "It speaks for itself, I think."

"Whatever," Rachel pulled his sleeve and pushed him behind the counter. "Now, if you two are done with your witty little banter, I would like to exchange some of my old cd's." she plopped all of them down on the counter.

"It might help if you would keep it in the box." Chris glanced at them while picking some up and looking at them.

Rachel shrugged at the mess. "Haven't seen you in a while." she stated.

They had known Chris for a while. Not as long as most of the people in their circle of friends, but he was honestly one of their closest male friends, aside from Mouth. And Rachel was becoming upset that they hadn't been spending as much time with each other. He got more involved with his music than he was before, two years ago when they first met. "Been busy." he said simply. Peyton was spending her time looking through the plethora of cd's and records there were together. She flipped through them slowly, though she had absolutely no interest in it what-so-ever. She spent most of the time making as little noise as possible so she could hear Chris and Rachel louder. She not only did that, but her hazel eyes spent most of the time peering at them through the side of her slitted eyes.

"What have you been busy doing?" asked Rachel, setting her CD's down in a different position.

"You do know that everything you've just littered my work space with is crap, right?" asked Chris.

Rachel replied. "What work space could you possibly have Kellar?" she looked around, and pointed to nothing. "All you do is insult the customers, and creep them out by talking about yourself in the 3rd person." she exclaimed.

"Time is money, _red_, and the longer I get a rise out of them, the more I can manipulate them into buying something."

"Or you could mess with some big, black guy who would hang you by your feet." said Rachel, looking up at him. "Yeah, but I'd still have great hair." he smirked, pointed to his oversized hair.

"Just let me trade these okay?" asked Rachel, looking at his with almost puppy dog eyes.

He started to stare at her for a long while, at first it was only to unnerve her, but after a while, he found himself getting lost in her deep brown eyes.

Rachel felt her stomach flutter like there were butterflies swarming around. She felt so incredibly weird. She'd never felt nervous in front of boys before. Or if she had, she'd been too young to remember. And every time she saw a boy she found attractive, she would flip her hair, flutter her eyelashes, and flirt his pants off. Literally. But when she was around Chris. It was like she was nervous she'd do the wrong thing. She didn't want to throw herself at him like she did the other boys, and they would always look at her like a slut afterwards. Honestly, if she had admitted it to herself, that was the last thing she wanted him to look at her as.

She didn't know why, but she wouldn't be able to handle it if he did. And she didn't know why.

"I'll give you REO Speedwagon." Peyton cringed. "REO Speedwagon? They suck!" said Rachel, pouting this time.

"Oh, and the Backstreet Boys don't?" asked Chris, looking at everything she had. She rolled her eyes, and looked away from him, not wanting to admit that he was right. "I'd give you N'Sync, but I only have rock." Chris said.

"Oh, no, I already have N'Sync." Rachel said, and searched through the pile for it. She pulled it out victoriously, and held it in front of his face. "Eww." Chris said, in a _duh_ tone of voice.

"Look," Chris said, picking out some of the better ones. "the best I can do is give you Britny Fox."

"Who are they?" she asked, scrunching up her face slightly. "Exactly."

"Can't you just give me money?" she asked seductively, leaning over the counter. But not as much as she usually did to most others. "Sorry, no can do. It's company policy." he said without a glance.

This discouraged Rachel a bit. But just a little. And she persevered. "Let's just don't and say we did. Come on, do it for your best friend."

He looked back up at her, and he wanted to tell her that she wasn't his best friend. But he couldn't lie. Lately though, he's been spending most of the time at the studio with his band mates, but she would always be his favorite.

"Aren't you like loaded? What's a few more dollars to you anyway? And you'd have something to listen to this way." he reasoned. "Can't I have Gavin DeGraw?" she asked.

"Didn't you already meet the guy?" She looked at him funny.

"Yeah, when I first met you, you wouldn't stop boasting about that. You were an annoying little fifteen year old." he ended. "And you're an annoying little seventeen year old, but I'm still your friend." she added to his earlier statement.

She gave him the best puppy eyes she had ever given anyone, and pouted, being sure that she'd get to him. The fact that he was being amazingly quite for the first time in his life seemed to mean something, because he looked like he was thinking about it, and he looked like he was about to give in.

He looked at her like he couldn't believe she had defeated him. Chris Kellar. "You're going to be the death of me red."

"Thank you Chrissy," she jumped. "and don't call me red." "Well don't call me Chrissy and then you have yourself a deal.." he said, and walked to the back where most of the CD's were. He came back out, and set a plethora of cd's down in front of her.

"Alright, we have live, we have oldies, news, concert specials, tributes. Just name what you want."

He looked impatient, and his stance shifted from one side to the other. Rachel looked as if her brain were racking in deep thought, stroking her chin, and looking up at the ceiling.

"I can always take this back." he said exasperatedly. Rachel tapped her finger on her chin gently. "No, don't do that. No need to do that. Give me that one." she pointed to his album Chariot. "Please." she finished, after Chris gave her a look.

Peyton snickered lightly in the background, when watching the two interact. When watching her best friend Rachel, looking like a child who obeyed their parent's, after being asked, _what do you say_? In that sickeningly sweet voice.

He wrapped up the album Rachel pointed to, and stuck it in a plastic bag. "Yeah." he said, as if to say, there you go. "Thanks." she smiled.

Peyton turned around, and put back whatever she was looking at. Heading for the door, she peered over to the bulletin board next to the front door and adjacent to the counter.

Something drawn in black and white on a red background caught her eye. Especially when she saw the words, _Tricked Out Thursday_ on it.

Peyton tried to wipe that smug smirk off of her face, before turning back around, as Rachel looked her way. "You do love me Kellar." said Peyton, loving annoying him.

Of course they were all friends, but Chris could always have this moody attitude that made you think he was in a bad mood. He was the kind of person who joked around and tried to hide any feelings that showed that he loved his friends and was a big softy. "Okay curls, just because I put up your clubs promo flyer doesn't mean that I love you." "Yes it does," Peyton smiled, flattening out her upper shirt. "you said only dazzlingly beautiful and creative music that qualifies as art is allowed in your presence. Let alone your bulletin board. That you're pimping out for me." she smiled.

"You did pimp her out." Rachel said absentmindedly, while strolling to stand next to Peyton, and looking up at the bulletin board as well. "First of all, I'm not a pimp...of sorts. And second, I never said creative." Chris said.

"Whatever, let's go Rachel, before he takes back his good for crap deal with you." she said, walking out.

Rachel stood still for only a while longer, and kept hold of his gaze, which she couldn't seem to tear herself away from.

When their eyes locked, it seemed weird and different. But weird in a good way.

Rachel didn't notice any of her surroundings. She didn't notice anything, like Peyton watching them the entire time. Or Peyton telling Rachel to hurry up, because they had to go. Chris didn't notice either.

Peyton smacked Rachel lightly on the side of her face, which Rachel ended up rubbing later. And then was it the only time either of the two noticed that they were staring. Staring at each other.

Rachel let her smile grow wider before she had even realized it, and Chris seemed to look genuine. Instead of just with a smug look on his face that showed he could tell that he thought of himself as God's gift to man.

"Come on, Ms.-- I don't have a thing for Chris Kellar." Rachel heard Peyton sing-songed softly, making sure Christ didn't hear.

Rachel felt her cheeks warm up a bit, and held her hands to them, before retreating slowly out of the small store on the side of Woodenberry St.

"What the hell was that curly?" she hissed. "He didn't hear _red_. But I can rearrange it so he can hear." Peyton threatened.

Rachel pouted, and stomped over to the vintage, classic car. Sliding in, she didn't say a word all the while. All the while, Peyton was silently driving closer to their homes, and turning the knob higher on the stereo. When Led Zeppelin could be easily heard through the speakers, it was only then that Rachel did speak up.

"Why do you have to bug me with Chris?" asked Rachel.

Peyton sighed, and looked over to her, making sure that there were no cars around on the road. There was no reason to get in an accident.

"I really don't see why you just don't go up and tell him you like him."

"And I don't understand why you wont break up with Blake, if you don't care about him." she countered back.

Peyton added. "But you always go up to random guys, and tell them you like them. Or show them you like them. The one that you seem to really like is the one that you don't go up to and tell him." "Exactly." said Rachel.

And it was only then that Peyton understood.

Brooke opened her eyes when she finally realized the bike was no longer going to continue in motion. Shrugging out of her embrace, Nathan carelessly climbed off of the bike, swinging his leg around the huge sculpted piece of metal, and began stretching.

Brooke had closed her eyes somewhere in the third quarter of their ride to a destination she was unsure of. The only thing she knew, was that the heart of Tree Hill was in the other direction.

They were in Wilmington, and Brooke had only noticed that when she opened her eyes briefly, and conveniently, when they passed the sign that welcomed passersby.

"Where are we?" she jumped off cutely, following his example of stretching. Nathan cracked his neck left to right, and answered her in a joking tone of voice. "In America. Where we have the right to be free!" he shouted.

He saw the look on her face, and he himself followed her actions, as he turned to look if anyone had heard that.

"I've been spending too much time around Tim." he sighed, walking briskly away from her.

They were in front of a building, and Brooke could tell that much.

He was walking much too fast, and she guessed that the reason she was unable to keep up with him without running, was that she was five foot six, and he was likely a bit over six feet.

Racking her brain smartly, using anything that she could ask him that wouldn't sound totally ridiculous, Brooke spewed out from her mouth the first thing she could think of. "Whose Tim?"

"Oh, he's the one that kept calling you all those different names the night we first met."

She took note of the fact that he didn't even turn around to look at her, he just kept on walking, and her plan worked to no avail.

"You also called me a crap load of names back there." she pointed out.

His laugh was deep, and husky, and she couldn't help but show off her dimples in her deep smile, not that he was looking. "Again, I've been hanging out with Tim too much."

They got to the front doors, and he appeared to be waiting for her there, because he made no move to go in until she got there.

Brooke opened her mouth to speak, while pulling her jacket tighter around her.

He cut her off when he noticed she was about to speak. There was no need to talk or speak. Except for him. "I'm heading inside, wait here for me."

Another thing she also took note of, was the fact that Nathan didn't ask him if she would wait there for him. He told her to. And she wasn't sure if that was a bad thing, or a good thing.

Brooke made another move to talk, but he cut her off again, like he was able to read her thoughts. "Don't worry, you wont get hurt. I promise." he said the last part, as she watched his back retreat into the house.

She looked into the house, as far as she could see. It didn't look much better from the outside either. It was cracked, and broken, and it was certainly some kind of abandoned house. A big one. And tons of things went down in a big, abandoned house. Tons of things also went on outside of it. She was outside.

But he said he promised. He promised. And somehow, that made everything seem alright.

Mouth had spent the day just like any other, he got to see his two best friends, and he got to spend it with Erica Marsh. Those two had in some way become closer, closer than they were before. And there was nothing that either of them had wanted to change.

The time that Mouth had spent with Brooke, Rachel, and Peyton had been immensely limited within the past couple of days. He still saw them in school, and they had lunch together, spending most of their free time in each other's presence. But whenever the final bell rang to signal the end of another day at school, he was thinking about Erica, or actually with Erica.

He hadn't dated too many girls before, and I guess you could say that he was in some way inexperienced.

To tell the truth, he had almost no idea what to do when it came to a member of the opposite sex. Much less sweet talking a member of the opposite sex, without tripping all over himself.

Peyton, Rachel, and Brooke were so much different to Mouth. They were his best friends, people who he had known for a while. Now, he hadn't known them since childhood, like the three had known each other, but he had met them a few years ago, when freshman year started, and the four instantly became friends.

Along with Chris Kellar, who was also added to the crew. He was the older one of the gang, he was a sophomore, while they were freshmen.

Chris graduated last year, and this coming year, was their turn to wear the black caps and gowns together. With Brooke as the valedictorian, and graduating at the top of their class. It's not like he wasn't jealous. He would love to have been able to be up there, giving his speech, switching the tassel from one side to the other, like his mother had told them a month ago.

She said that was the best part.

He was proud of her though, very proud, and he was going to try and be the one cheering loudest for her. That would probably prove to be a very interesting and difficult job to fulfill properly, considering that Brooke was dearly loved in the school's eyes.

She was the popular girl who knew what she wanted, and how to get it. He was so thankful at that moment, that Brooke had basically been his personal Hitch. Rachel was probably the second most popular girl in the school, it said so in the class superlatives.

His redheaded friend had also been very kind, and given him as many pointers as he could take.

Peyton tried to be the voice of reason, when Brooke and Rachel took the flirting toll too far.

Normally, Peyton was the one who knew most of what to say, and she knew how to be sexy and appealing. But sometimes, Rachel and Brooke just took it too far.

This was the first date he had with Erica Marsh. Their first official date.

Brooke had given him her number, which was smudged with black ink and wrinkled. He looked at her funny when she gave it to him, her clothes still wet, and her hair still drying. Explaining to him that she had gotten caught in the rain, and it had been in her pocket, he understood. After calling about five numbers, and all having them tell him that it had been a wrong number, he almost gave up, before he looked at the paper again and tried to interpret the numbers once again. The sixth time he had been thankful, and he was rewarded by her sweet voice answering the other line.

They had spent a decent amount of time talking on the telephone, just speaking about what they liked or didn't like. And that was enough for them.

The next day, they had decided to meet up, and the town was pretty deserted, considering that most of everyone was at this big party they were having—they had one every weekend.

She confessed to him that the whole party scene wasn't really her thing, and he smiled. He completely understood, because he felt the exact same way. They had so much in common, and sometimes that was a bad thing. Though, most of the time, it was a hell of a good thing. Opposites do attract, but similar personalities make for soul mates.

It's not like he was looking for love just yet, but things were looking up for him pretty good. It wasn't even a bad thing that he had forgotten everything Chris had told him, when he was the one helping him out in the dating scene. Erica wasn't impressed by anything he could have written down on the inside of his hand, not with anything he had recited.

And that's what he liked so much about her.

Tonight, they were going to spend together, and for the first time as a date. She was standing next to him as they walked home from school, and he kept on apologizing to her that they missed their bus. When she kept on saying that it was really okay, he didn't listen, because he was too busy thinking about what was to come of their date tonight.

The door reopened, after only about ten to fifteen minutes. Twenty, maybe.

Nathan reappeared, and he was fast at her side, before he urged her to follow him without saying a word.

She would most likely scoff in a situation like this, but she felt compelled to follow him. Not listen to him. But follow.

It wasn't like those basketball players who threw around their girls emotionally, or just treated their arm candy like crap. He seemed to know everything that was going to happen, and know that it was all going to be okay. Like if she followed him, she would be safe. Because it was her decision. Not his. And she felt like she could be safe with him, like she no longer had any doubts in her mind. Afraid of him, she was no longer. Everything was going to be okay.

Rachel and Peyton made their way upstairs in the Sawyer house. Rachel said that she didn't want to go home just yet. Brooke and Rachel were both alone, and they hated it. So was Peyton, but she didn't know what it was like to have parent's that chose to be away from you. Larry Sawyer needed to make a living, make a home for his daughter, for his family.

Peyton let Rachel come over, of course, and the two barely said a word to each other the entire time. They had probably conversed more when they were in the bathroom stalls, for a minute.

Peyton kept on looking over at Rachel, and hoping that she would talk at any moment. She really wanted to be able to talk to her, but she didn't want to be the one that started the conversation.

What she had said earlier, about how the reason why she didn't want to tell Chris she liked him, was because she liked him. That almost did not make sense. She thought that she had realized what it meant, but maybe she had been wrong. Hearing it straight from the horses mouth was so much better.

"I like him, okay?" she huffed, breaking Peyton's brooding silence. "You like Chris, huh?" she questioned. "Yeah, I really do." Rachel walked, to sit on Peyton's queen sized bed.

"So why don't you just tell him?"

Rachel sighed. "Because, I don't have a problem with telling guys that I feel nothing for, that I like them. I don't care what they think about me, I don't care if they have no respect for me. That's why I act all sexy. Some guys construed that as slutty. And Chris is the one guy that I don't want to think of me as slutty.'' she explained.

Peyton honestly didn't know what to say. She was sincerely at a loss for words. After thinking about what to do, to wrap her arms around her and comfort her, or to stay quite and let Rachel sort this out on her own, she settled for staying quiet.

After a few moments of silence, the blonde had a good idea, and she really liked it too.

Peyton-"I have an idea, let's have a girl's night. Watching old, bad movies, we can sing along to the musicals, and make fun of them, and then make fun of each other for knowing the lyrics. We can pig out on ice cream, and gain five pounds, but at lease we'll be fatasses together."

Rachel felt her friend tuck a red piece of hair behind her ear, and she looked up into her eyes. "Yeah, alright." said Rachel.

They walked out of the room, headed for downstairs, readying themselves for their movie night. Just the three of them. Then, a thought dawned on Rachel.

"Hey, where the hell's Brooke?" asked Rachel.

Nathan knew exactly where he was driving to, but he wouldn't tell Brooke where they were going. Not that she asked much, she probably asked all but once.

She was spending the time on the back of his bike wondering what he went into the house for. And why it had taken such a while. A million thoughts were coursing through her head at the same time, and she couldn't get herself to settle on one thought. Maybe he was doing something like drugs. But honestly, she knew that he would have taken longer to snort a few lines of coke, and then to sit off his high.

Maybe he was dealing drugs. No, that didn't sound quite right. Maybe he was buying drugs. Maybe she was overreacting, and maybe he was pulling over on the side of the road.

Well, Brooke looked around, and it wasn't the side of the road, but they pulled over in the parking lot of some random diner.

It looked nice and clean, and very appealing. And, come to think of it, her stomach started rumbling at the thought of food. Amazing that she had forgotten about food when she liked so much to eat. It was also amazing how slim she managed to keep after digesting all that food.

Nathan swung his leg over the bike again, and straightened his jacket, popping the collar. She thought that they were going to be walking in the front, but obviously she was wrong as he walked around, along the side.

Maybe he was hallucinating from the LSD. She jumped as she felt her phone vibrating in the pocket of her skirt, and Brooke slowed a bit as she watched him walk around to the back.

Peyton's name showed across the screen, as it danced along with every second spent not answering the phone. Brooke couldn't decide whether she wanted to answer it or not.

Flipping the phone open, she decided to go with the first thought. "Yes?" Brooke answered.

Nathan swung open the back door, which looked to be the private entrance to only the employees. He turned around when he noticed her not following anymore, and she held her hand over the mouthpiece for a second.

"I'll be right there." Brooke called over to him.

When she saw him nod, well more like shrug, she turned her back and held the phone back up to her ear.

She obviously must have missed what Peyton had just said, so again she said, "Yes?"

"Where are you?" Peyton snapped, worried a bit about her friend.

_Miles from Tree Hill. _"I went and got a bite to eat."

She heard Peyton shuffling around, and the sounds of Peyton covering the mouthpiece as she must have said something to Rachel.

"That's you Brooke, always thinking of your stomach."

_Easy lie_.

"What can I say, at least I have a metabolism the size of my libido."

"Gross." said Peyton, cringing on the other side of the phone. "You called, why by the way?" said Brooke, shifting her phone from one side to the other.

"Well, we were worried about you, and we're having a girl's night."

Brooke didn't know when she'd be back. "I bumped into a friend Peyton, and I don't know when I'll be back."

_It wasn't a total lie. _She hated lying to her friends. "Who?"

_Damnit Peyton, why'd you have to ask that?_

"Uh, what? I can't really hear you." she rubbed her hand roughly over the mouthpiece. "You know, you're breaking up. I can't hear you. Hello? Bye." she rasped out, through Peyton's yelling voice protesting.

_Real smooth Brooke. Reeeal smooth._

Slapping her phone closed, and off, she sighed, and continued walking up the path Nathan had taken, and into the back door.

It slammed shut after Brooke walked in slowly. She didn't want to be doing anything wrong, or getting in anyone's way.

People were looking at her like she shouldn't be there, and she immediately felt misplaced.

Her palms began to sweat, and she chewed her bottom lip as she was ready to back and bolt out of there.

Suddenly, she let out a breath that she hadn't known she'd been holding, as she felt two strong hands guide her from behind.

Brooke looked up at Nathan, whom she'd thought deserted her, and walked where he led her. "Relax, she's with me." he told the other people, who relaxed visibly as he said this.

A woman, who looked to be around thirty five, maybe forty at the most, came closer to them.

She had short brown hair, and chocolate brown eyes, and was wearing an apron. "Nathan, is this a friend of yours?" the lady asked.

She seemed nice enough, and she seemed like a person who worked hard. Maybe she was Nathan's mother? "Yeah." he said, indifferently.

Brooke watched as she extended a hand out for her to shake, and she took hold of it, as the older woman introduced herself.

"Hi sweetie. My name's Karen."

Brooke shook her hand, and smiled back at the kind woman. She actually looked a lot like Nathan. They both had the same coloring, and the same dark hair. The only thing that was different, was his blue eyes.

"I'm Brooke."

Nathan walked away for a second, reaching over and grabbing a few things. He walked out into the seating area where the customers were, and sat down in an empty booth. Probably the only empty one there. Brooke also noticed that an older couple were headed with their food to that exact table, but Nathan only hurried himself over there.

Shaking her head, she looked over to the woman in front of her, who looked like she was about to say something.

"So" she said, throwing a ratty looking red and white dish rag down onto a small wooden table. "how did you meet Nathan?"

Brooke shifted. "Oh, we sort of bumped into each other in Wilmington. Then, we started bumping into each other more and more. I live in Tree Hill." she added.

"Really?" Brooke nodded. "That's a good ways away from here. Nathan never goes to Tree Hill."

"I thought he knew Jake Jagielski?"

"Well, yes sweetie. But he usually comes out to Wilmington. Like I said, Nathan hardly goes to Tree Hill. And if you bumped into Nathan there, then you must be something else."

_I bumped into him at the party. Then I bumped into him when he came to my school._

Turning to look at Nathan, Brooke saw him shoving a crap load of fries into his mouth. "Oh, well, it was really nice meeting you, but I think Nathan's going to get lonely without me.''

_Okay, that was a total lie. If anyone's a lone wolf, Nathan is._

"Oh, yes, by all means. Let me know if you need anything, alright? And dig in." she motioned to the two plates Nathan had on the table.

Karen walked away, grabbing two bowls of soup, before Brooke could even say thank you.

She gaped her mouth open, but for only a split second, and she walked out to where Nathan was.

There was a long line of people, and now she understood why Nathan wanted to go in the back. Apparently, his mother was used to him coming in the back like that, and getting free food for himself and his friends.

She wondered why Nathan was so cold-hearted if had such a wonderful mother.

By the time she had gotten to the table, Brooke noticed that Nathan had completely finished off his food. It had only seemed like five seconds ago he had started with the fries.

_Great, now I'm going to have to eat by myself, and look like a fatass._

He didn't even look up when she slid in, opposite him; he didn't need to.

She lay her hands on the table, and entwined them together, leaning forward to try and start a conversation. "So," she said, grabbing one of her fries. "you're mother seems nice."

That obviously caught Nathan's attention for some reason, because he looked up, and into her eyes. "Oh, she's not my mother." "Who is she?" she pressed, curiously wanting to know. "Somebody whose not my mother." he answered..

"I'm sure you were just captain of the debate team." she scoffed, looking down at her food again. "Yeah, I'm a fuckin' chess club loser."

Brooke winced, and apparently he saw it. "Sorry, I forgot you were con-profanity."

That was the thing about him. Any response you got from him was monotone. He didn't care to elaborate on anything. Every answer that fell from his mouth, was a one sentence answer. And he looked like he had so much potential to hold an intelligent conversation. He did use the word profanity, instead of saying something like, swearing. He knew the difference between pros and cons.

Why did he not care about anything?

He leaned back, and rest his head in his hands which were together, and he leaned back against the wall.

Brooke started into her food, and she thought that it was really good. She'd have to come back sometime. If he ever took her again. If she ever saw him again. She wondered why she was feeling like this. Like caring about when the next time they would see each other would be. Or even if they would see each other again.

He actually watched her as she ate, and it seemed to amuse him. He wasn't used to seeing girls eat so much, so fast. The girls he knew wore too much makeup, swore just for the fun of it, dressed too skanky, and ate like birds. It was nice to see a girl who could just be herself in front of her, it was actually kind of a turn-on.

They sat that way for about ten more minutes, and he watched her intently as she finished off every bite of teri-cheeseburger supreme, and fries.

"That was really good." she said, licking her hands. "Your _not_ mom is a great cook."

He laughed, and she felt self-conscious after she had realized that he had been watching her the whole time. "You didn't grab us drinks?"

"Am I your servant? Am I supposed to do everything you say?" he asked, raising his voice.

Brooke looked around frantically, at all the people's stares. "Keep your voice down will you." she hissed, calming him.

It was only then, that she saw him laughing, along with that sexy little smirk plastered on his face. "Relax kid, I was only jokin'."

"I'm not a kid." she whispered, and turned a light pink around the cheeks.

"Whatever you say, kid. You really have to learn not to worry about what people think. Just say, fu—f them." he corrected himself, remembering her fear of profanity. "Sometimes what other people think can make of break you." she countered.

"Well, if you believe that, you'll believe that it actually takes grades and well behavior to get into a good college."

Brooke stared at him blankly. Now they were getting somewhere. Too bad he was on the opposite opinion side of her. "Good grades and behavior do pay off, yes." she nodded.

Nathan slammed his hands down on the table, and leaned forward, pushing the empty plates aside. He honestly didn't look like he cared, but his actions told her differently.

"My pops could get me into any college I wanted. You know why?" he rose his forehead, to bring slight creases and wrinkles. "because" he leaned back again. "my dad has money. And money buys everything." he said, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Money does not buy everything." she said firmly. "Money does buy everything." he hissed. "Money doesn't buy happiness." whispered softly, looking down.

"What?" "Nothing." she whispered, but louder this time, so he could actually hear.

A few minutes passed, and the silence became deafening. One of them needed to speak, before they pulled out each other's hair.

"You want to get out of here?" "Yeah, sure. Just let me go to the bathroom." she said, scooting out of the booth.

"What are you going to do in there?" he looked up. "You ask all the girls you're with that?"

He gave a gruff laugh at the way her face looked when he said that. He honestly hadn't meant for it to come out like that.

"I meant, if you're actually going to use the toilet, then fine. But if you're just going to _freshen up_," he used air quotes. "then I might as well go in there. There's only one bathroom here."

"Well, not that it is any of your business what I'm going to do in the bathroom, I'm going to just apply some eyeliner."

Nathan said. "Alright, fine." She nodded, and let him watch her walk away.

Brooke was in the bathroom, putting some chapstick on, and curling her eyelashes, when she heard the door handle jiggling.

Damn, she had forgotten to lock it. And now it was opening, to reveal the exact guy that confused her when he said if she was just going to put on makeup, he should come in.

Does he want sex? In the bathroom of his not mom's restaurant?

He slid in, and let the door click behind him. Brooke watched him grab something out of his pocket, and she silently prayed that it wasn't a condom. There was no way she was about to have sex with this guy in that bathroom. And that was saying something for her.

When he came closer, she got a closer look at what was in his hands. It neatly resembled the slim, black, stick she was holding in his hands.

_Eyeliner_?

He smirked at her, and stood in front of the mirror, grabbing the top and bottom of his left eye to apply the liner.

He didn't even care that she was watching him. Didn't even flinch.

When he moved onto his right eye, she was still staring at him like he had grown five more testicles.

"It's just a gang member putting on eyeliner, nothing to see here. Move along." Brooke would have laughed, if it weren't for his dead serious face. He did look hott though, she had to admit. With his spiky black hair, that kicked out in the front, and his beautiful blue eyes enhancing from the black eyeliner that matched his hair color.

Every feature on his face was perfectly defined, and his smirk was the most enticing site she thought she's ever seen. "You comin' or not peaches?" he asked, as he walked out the door.

She stood there for only a bit longer, and quickly snapped back into reality when she heard the door click shut.

She decided against the eyeliner. It wasn't like her to wear that much makeup anyway.

When the door opened, he was leaning against the wall next to the door on the other side of the bathroom.

"What? No eyeliner?" he asked, pushing himself off the wall. "No, I'm going au-natural. Well, on my face."

Nathan-"Makeup makes girls look like crap." he said, leaving her as he walked back to the kitchen's entrance.

She wanted to ask him if makeup made guys look like crap, since he insulted her, and he was wearing makeup after all. But he walked away too fast for her to speak.

Rachel and Peyton were in Peyton's kitchen, grabbing all the snacks they needed for their movie night. It was a tradition that they had.

Whenever one of the was done, or simply not feeling their perkiest, the other two would suggest a movie night.

"So, where's Brooke?" Rachel asked, grabbing a half gallon milk carton, and pouring herself a glass. "She met up with a friend." said Peyton, grabbing a coke from the fridge.

There was absolutely no way Peyton was about to tell Rachel what Brooke was doing. It's not like she knew exactly what Brooke was doing herself, but she was pretty sure the friend she was referring to was that dark haired boy Brooke took off with.

She was guessing that if Rachel was so uneasy about her talking to Lucas, she wouldn't be all too happy if Brooke was spending the day with another gang member.

"What friend?"

Peyton knew that Rachel was completely clueless, she hadn't seen Brooke at the party with that guy. But, now it was all on Peyton's back to lie to her.

"She didn't say." said Peyton.

Not a lie, but not the truth either. I'm not sure which one's better in this case.

"Oh, okay." Rachel said, placing a chip in her mouth. Rachel loved to eat chips and milk, or crackers and milk. Peyton always thought it was the most disgusting thing she's ever seen. Until she saw Chris put jam on his chocolate cake. Really, how much sugar could someone take without going into a coma?

"Brooke will be back in a little while." Peyton said, hoping Rachel will forget in an hour.

They grabbed all their food, and picked out the DVD's of their choice. Grease was one of them, and while it was playing, both Rachel and Peyton sang along to just about every one of it's songs. Rachel was pepped up most for Hopelessly Devoted To You.

_Guess mine is not the first heart broken,  
My eyes are not the first to cry.  
I'm not the first to know,  
There's just no gettin' over you._

Hello, I'm just a fool who's willing,  
To sit around and wait for you.   
But baby can't you see,  
There's nothin' else for me to do.   
I'm hopelessly devoted to you.

But now, there's nowhere to hide,  
Since you pushed my love aside.  
I'm not in my head,   
Hopelessly devoted to you.  
Hopelessly devoted to you,   
Hopelessly devoted to you.

My head is saying, "fool, forget him",  
My heart is saying, "don't let go."   
Hold on to the end, that's what I intend to do.  
I'm hopelessly devoted to you.

But now there's nowhere to hide,  
Since you pushed my love aside.  
I'm not in my head,  
Hopelessly devoted to you.  
Hopelessly devoted to you.  
Hopelessly devoted to you.

"That was almost YouTube worthy." said Peyton, popping a broken chip into her mouth.

"Thanks, that's awfully kind of you." she said sarcastically.

"I try." smirked Peyton, wiping crumbs off of herself.

It was during their second movie, and Peyton was starting to worry about Brooke. Rachel had asked a few times, each time Peyton was forced to lie through her teeth. And now, she noticed that Rachel was losing some of her sugar high, like she was building up an immunity to energy drinks.

She sighed, hoping that Brooke would get back soon, and promising that she would kick her $$ when she did.

Nathan was sitting next to Brooke on the top of an abandoned warehouse, near the coast of the Atlantic ocean.

It came up high, and it overlooked most of the ocean, as far as you could see.

The day was now Friday, and the sun was setting into evening. Colors of purples and pinks, many different shade of each, were cascading down and over the heads of Nathan Scott and Brooke Davis.

Their legs were dangling off of the edge, coming close to a drop, but neither let the height bother them. Their backs were the only thing you could see, if one were to climb up the rusty ladder on the side of the cracked and broken building.

She was thinking about their ride after they left the restaurant. They headed to a destination that was unknown to her, and ended up outside of another building that he needed something from, like the first.

That time, she ended up going in there with him, looking around at everything happening around there. Not much to tell. Don't ask, don't tell. It was surprisingly calm as she waiting in the front room of wherever they were at. People, who were mostly male, introduced themselves to her, and she kept her cool, though she was shaking when she saw bulges in the waistbands of most of their jeans. And not their penis's.

Only when she saw in plain view, a pistol on the table in front of a big television, where most were gathered, was when her heart fluttered, and the sweat beads on her forehead were sent into overdrive.

He took longer that time, and after they were gone, he took her on the back of his bike for what seemed like a tour of his home. He quietly, and gruffly pointed out to her the hotspots of downtown Wilmington, as they tore through the town.

He didn't speak much, unless she asked him what certain things were, or if he really thought something would interest her, which were the ones he on his own, pointed out.

Little did she know, that the places he pointed out to her weren't just places he'd thought she'd like. They were all small, important, or insignificant pieces of his life.

He wanted to show her. But she never knew. He didn't even know why. He didn't know.

Now, after their long ride. They sat side by side, looking off into the horizon, like nothing could bother them.

He wasn't the punk, leader of a gang who had no respect or authority for anyone or anything. She wasn't the prep, cheerleader who was always happy-go-lucky.

They just were.

Nathan and Brooke.

It seemed like only a while they were they, when in actuality, it had been well over forty-five minutes. Time apparently flies when you're having fun.

But was sitting down on an abandoned warehouse with a perfect stranger who you had only known since last week, seen three times, and kissed once, while you were looking off into the sunset considered fun?

Maybe. Maybe that's all they needed. Each other. And they didn't even know it yet.

Nathan-"We should get back." his voice interrupted her thoughts.

Thoughts of when they were climbing up to here, and hour ago. How he had placed his hand on her waist, guiding her up as she climbed, taking extra precautions as to make sure she didn't fall.

Or how she tried to ignore that spark of electricity that flew through her body, at the bare touch of his hand, to the exposed flesh of her hip bone, when her shirt had ridden up. Just like how she had tried to ignore him passing through her mind throughout the last week, since he had kissed her outside her house.

"Back to where?" asked Brooke. "You'll see." His hand extended out for her to grab, and she smacked off the dirt from the back of her skirt as she stood up, and took his hand as she did so.

He walked back to the ladder that was waiting for them. His hand never leaving hers as he scuffled back so they could get down.

Brooke was walking in front of him, to be the first one down like she had been the first one up. She grabbed the holds tight, but she felt him slightly push her away, and make his way down first, instead.

She pursed her lips together in a way that showed she was a little peeved. But she shrugged it off, and continued down the way, trying to hurry, so she didn't have to back off a ladder wearing a skirt, which wasn't easy. Considering that he was below her, taking his time.

The day went by slowly, and the darkness projected more so over the city, and the adjoining town of Tree Hill.

Mouth and Erica were outside her family's home, after he had gone in and met her parent's. They had seemed like nice enough people, and he wouldn't deny that he was in fact, intimidated by her father. Her was a bigger man, with broad shoulders, and blonde hair like his daughters. Maybe a little darker, but Erica really got her flaxen hair from her mother.

Mouth was just glad to finally be out of there, and he was sure there were big sweat stains under his armpits, that soaked through his blue evening shirt.

She looked beautiful to him, in her short, black dress and heels. They were going to go out to dinner at one of the high-scale restaurants in town. It was going to be their first official date. And he wasn't even sure if they were dating yet. So, how official could it be?

But they walked over to his father's car, which he had borrowed for the night, and opened the passenger side for his date, before getting in himself.

Although he was already seventeen, he had just gotten his license. He was nervous about driving a bit a ways to where they were going to eat. There was no way that she was going to be impressed if they had gotten into an accident.

"Just relax Mouth, you don't have to do anything to impress me. If I didn't like you already, I would never have been on this date." Erica said.

"Thanks Erica, I guess you can kind of tell that I'm nervous."

She brushed hand over his leg quickly, and gave him a very reassuring smile. "I noticed."

He smiled back over to her, and told her to turn the radio up a bit. They made their way to the restaurant without a hitch, and as soon as they were seated, he seemed to tense up again, a bit.

They made small talk for a while, and seemed decently comfortable in each other's presence. The night progressed on, and they enjoyed their time together, eating, and talking about anything.

Nathan and Brooke were again on his bike, riding carelessly through the city, and again Nathan complained about her bag which was stabbing him in the back.

She was amazed at first how she could just leave her bag on the back of his bike, and have absolutely no one take it. It was an expensive on too. It only had Le Sport Sac stamped all across it, for everyone who knew about know that it wasn't a cheap bag. He had ended up telling her that everyone in the area knew his bike, and wouldn't dare touch anything on it, or near it. Of course, he hadn't exactly said it in those exact words. It surprised Brooke how modest he was. He wasn't like all of those gang members she had seen in movies that boast about how powerful they were. And none of them were any more powerful than Nathan was. Yet, he still only shrugged, and acted like it was no big deal.

It was really starting to get dark now, and she was thinking about how right about now there would be a party in Tree Hill.

Another Friday night, another chance to get wasted.

When they pulled up in front of the same house she had seen the first time, it looked different the second time around. They was a considerable addition in people from the last time, she noted. Nathan hopped off his bike, and they walked in together to the place she had earlier been waiting outside for fifteen minutes.

They really weren't that many people there, but considering last time when she looked in, there had only been one person she saw, or the fact that she was the only one outside earlier, this amount made it seem like it was crawling with people.

He led her through the living room, where guys were seated around a television, like the other place they had been. Going upstairs, and hearing the creaking floorboards under their steps, made Brooke wonder where they were going.

"Where are we going?" she asked. He only smirked at her in response. _Smirked_. "You'll see." he added a few seconds later.

"Must you be so cryptic about everything?"

"Who the fk said Crips?" a dangerous sounding voice hollered from behind a corner, upstairs.

Brooke shuddered for a moment, and she could hear, as well as feel Nathan laugh. "Sorry, I don't think it's very funny." she whispered, tamely.

"It's just that no one's afraid of Tim." he laughed.

The same boy she had seen the first night, on the sidewalk, in the rain, two blocks from Sassy, had popped out from behind the corner, wearing a drunken skirk.

She rolled her eyes heavenward, and she exhaled a loud breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Hey, it's Apricot!" Tim yelled, and flew over to where Brooke was.

His arms flailed wildly for a second, before he flung them over Brooke's shoulders.

Nathan pushed him back roughly, and gave him a death glare, which made Tim cower.

"Spoil my fun." he groaned. "What's up doll, I don't think we've been properly introduced. I'm Tim." he said, taking her hand, and kissing it lightly.

Nathan was about to throw him into the nearest wall, when Brooke saved Tim without even knowing it.

"Yeah, I didn't know that your name was Tim. You were too busy trying to intimidate me, and scare me that night in the rain."

Nathan chuckled, and draped an arm around Brooke's shoulders.

Tim frowned, and gave a drunken hiccup. "But you're with Nathan. He also tried to intimadade and s-s-scarre you. I see how it is, you pigg em becassse he'sss hodder than me." he slurred.

Brooke looked amused.

"Tim, the party hasn't even started yet, and already you're drunker than a mother-fucking skunk." Nathan said, snatching a half-drunk bottle of Heineken away from his best friend, who just picked it up off the ground. "Go downstairs, sober up." he ordered.

Tim just swatted his hands away, and snatched back the green bottle, before stumbling down the stairs. "Near, far! WHEREVER you are! I beliiieeeeve that the heart does go onnnnnn. Once more, you OPEN the door. AND YOU'RE HERE IN MY HEART." he hollered, down the stairs.

"I don't want to know how he know those lyrics."

Nathan's eyes grew in excitement, or what looked like excitement. "Are you kidding? Celine Dion? ONCE MORE, YOU OPEN THE DOOR!"

Brooke gave him a weird look as he sa—well, more like yell—or screamed. "Relax, I'm just kidding. He sings that damn song all the time. He's obsessed with Titanic." "Riiight." she said softly.

"Come on." he led her back to a bedroom. "Why are we going back here?" she teased in a small seductive voice.

"So you can get ready. There's a party we're going to be having right here in a little while, and I just thought, that you being a girl and all, would like to put on some more makeup."

She looked a bit taken a back after he said that. Brooke got brought back to that earlier thing he said in the restaurant. She wasn't sure if he was saying that she was ugly, and she needed more makeup, or if he was disgusted that she did, because it makes girls look cheap.

"I never said you're ugly by the way. Trust me, the last thing you are is ugly." he said, looking her up and down, and licking his lips.

"Why thank you hott eyeliner wearing boy." Brooke said, clicking her tongue.

"Ha!" he grinned. "Don't ever call me that again. It makes me sound like a faggot." his face got serious, but she knew he was joking, at lease somewhat.

"Tell your friend to stop calling me a million and seventy-five different nicknames, and you've got yourself a deal."

"I'll see what I can do. And in the mean time, do whatever it is you do to get ready for a party." he said, reaching the door. "Grab your tits in your hands, and bring them out higher, so they're practically erupting out of your bra, which is erupting out of your shirt. I've seen chicks do that before. It looks weird. But hott!" he added.

Brooke laughed, looking up at him challengingly. "Yeah, but unlike those girls, I don't need to make my boobs look bigger." she flirted.

"I bet you don't." he agreed. "But can you just plunge your hand down the front of your shirt for a good time?" she caught him looking down the front of her shirt.

Before she could ask him to make sure the door was locked, he walked out. There was no lock on the inside, because the door knob was busted. Brooke cringed, thinking about if anyone came in, and that wouldn't be a very good thing.

So, she hurriedly added some clear lip gloss, dotted some _benetint_ on the rounds of her cheeks, and curled her eyelashes. Brushing back her hair, and straightening her clothes.

Sometime during Grease, Rachel had tuckered herself out, and now was sound asleep on the living room floor of Peyton's home. It definitely wasn't like Rachel to fall asleep at such an early hour, but Peyton rolled with, and decided that with all the candy they had consumed, it was completely understandable that Rachel suffered a burnout. She herself was feeling a bit tired. There was no way she was going to finish all that candy and food herself. Nor was there any reason at all for her to stay up and watch the movie by herself.

Rachel was laying on her stomach, with her hands under herself, and her backside up in the air in Peyton's plain view.

Peyton set down the bowls she was piling up, and grabbed out her phone, snapping a picture of Rachel's bottom half.

"Now _that_ is YouTube worthy." And she clicked the save button before closing her phone.

Aside from the fact that Mouth and Erica were having a good enough time, he was still nervous, which made her nervous.

Until a waiter walked by, carrying a trey of food in one of his hands. Mouth conveniently decided to straighten out his napkin, which had break crumbs on it. He whacked it out into the air, to sort of kick of the small particles of food. Only, he whacked the waiter with his elbow, sending just about everything flying through the air, and onto people.

After screams, and hollers, the restaurant became uncomfortably silent. Another few moments passed, and all you could hear was Erica's laughter.

Brooke walked out, and looked around for Nathan. Careful as to not bump into anyone she didn't want to bump into.

When she finally found him, he was standing up against a corner of the wall, taking a drag from his cigarette.

He saw her, pushed himself off the wall with a bounce, and strode confidently over to her. "You got a blonde friend, right?" Nathan asked to Brooke, who had a small confused look on her face.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Peyton. Why?" Nathan ignored her, reminding her of some annoying reporter. "What's her address?" "Why." she asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

"What's her address?" he pressed onward, again ignoring her. "1424 Orchard Lane."

She didn't know why she had told him, or why he had asked. How did he even know that she had a blonde best friend?

Nathan nodded, and went to sit in a poker game. She looked around for about a minute, before she heard his voice break his thoughts. He was calling her over to him.

A chair was open, and she plopped herself down, letting Nathan introduce her to his friends. Although she knew most of them. "You know how to play, don't you?" Brooke grinned, throwing him a flirty smile i the process. "I think I do."

The guys smirked, and one grabbed out a gun from his jeans. Throwing it on the table in the middle, and rattling the cards about a bit.

"Relax tootsie, it's not loaded." Tim smiled.

She didn't think it was very funny. Tim pulls out a gun, throws it on the table, which conveniently was pointed to her, and he tells her to relax. "I wasn't scared." she said confidently.

Nathan smirked, letting his cigarette lay on the side of his mouth, the smoke was almost choking her.

"Whatever, let's just play. The party starts in a half an hour. I'll help you." he said to Brooke.

Tim grinned, looking over at Brooke. "So, you like our Scotty do ya?" he slung his arm over Brooke's shoulders.

"You do know that both me and Brooke can see all your cards, right?" Nathan asked, changing the subject.

Tim snatched his cards back heavily, and pasted them to his chest with his hand protectively.

"Scotty?" Tim laughed as best he could. "Yeah, that's our little nickname for your boytoy." he explained, pointing at Nathan. "That's the nickname _you_ gave me." Brooke could tell that it pissed him off, like really pissed him off, by the look he gave Tim.

"Well, it caught on." said Tim.

Nathan gave a disgruntled laugh that erupted from deep within his chest. "Yeah, and remember that shiner I gave you the day I found out it _caught on_?" he said, using air quotes.

"Wait," Brooke said, stopping the death glare going on front of her. "why that name?"

"Cause my last name's Scott. I have to admit that it was better than the alternative though. He almost called me Cry Baby, he was into that damn movie at the time. He thought I reminded him of Depp, damn kid was high when he decided to name me. And let's not forget about Motorcycle Boy from that old movie from the 80's."

"That was actually a book first." Brooke thought, trying to remember something she read.

They all gave her stares, as they continued on playing the game. Trading in cards they didn't want, for better ones, trying to get a good suit in silence.

"That movie, Rumble Fish—"

"That'ss the movie! It was awesssome!" Tim yelled, high-fiving Brooke for remembering that for him.

"Yeah, I've never seen it, but it was a book first."

"You haven't sseen it? Me and you have to have a movie night!" Tim yelled, trying to convince her to stay the night sometime.

"Yeah, that'll happen." he muttered, almost soft enough for no one to hear. Except for Brooke who was right next to him.

Brooke laughed at Tim, and thought about how many beatings he must have endured. Though, he only meant well.

"Yeah, and you know the worst part? All my damn friends are callin' me either Cry Baby, or Motorcycle Boy, or Scotty. Scotty even caught on with our rival gangs. Which is great, thanks Tim."

"Anytime buddy."

Nathan blew out a puff of smoke from his lips, and told him to be quiet.

Erica was walking in front of Mouth, heading toward his car, which was parked a bit away.

"Sorry for that." Mouth blushed. "Are you kidding? That was probably the most fun I've had all night."

His face looked crushed for a second. "No, I mean Mouth. Don't you see that you don't have to impress me? Just be your natural clumsy self that knocks ravioli into a fat old man's toupee."

"How about when the old man's toupee fell off into that fat lady's cleavage, and he tried to get it out."

"And her husband punched the bald guy!" she laughed.

Mouth laughed again, filling his spirits lift. "That was definitely the most relaxed I've been all night. Well, aside from wondering if that guy was gonna punch me."

Erica laughed, and they started walking back to his car. When they got there, she turned around, and placed a sweet kiss on his lips.

When they pulled back, Mouth scrounged up the courage he'd been waiting for.

"Erica Marsh." she looked him in the eye as he spoke softly. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes." she smiled.

Back with Nathan and Brooke, the party had started to roll around, and they had finished their poker game.

Brooke ended up winning all of the money. She ended up on the receiving end of glares from all across the table. "It's just a good mixture of luck and bluff." "And hustling." Nathan mumbled, sulking as he sank back in his chair..

Tim raised a glass that he thought was his, but only received a slap from the actual drink's owner. "I sssecond that." he threw his cards at Nathan, who gave him a death glare.

"How did I hustle?" she said, oddly feeling more comfortable.

"Oh, Nathan, I think I remember how to play." Nathan mimicked, using his hands in a mock feminine way. "Would you mind helping me?"

The other guys gave grunts of disapproval, but oddly, her hustling them gained her their respect. It's not like they haven't lied to win.

They started cleaning up the table, preparing for the party. "I didn't ask for your help." she said defiantly. "You didn't decline when I said I'd help you either." said Nathan.

"Oh, I'm sorry I didn't say no thanks, I really do know how to play, I was just bluffin'. What's the number one rule of poker? _Bluff_."

"Right." Nathan said, packing up the cards. Tim slurred. "I like herr." he said, slinging his arm over Nathan's shoulder. "She's got balls."

"Yeah, Tim." said Nathan, patting his smaller friend on the back.

Time passed on, and it got later and later into the night. Now, the party was full on raging, like the one's Brooke had been accustomed to back in Tree Hill. Though, there were sex, drugs, and rock n roll. Well, Tree Hill had one point five out of the three. There were less modest sex here, people devouring each other's faces in other people's way, drugs, in addition to alcohol, and harder rock than the ones played by preppy high school students.

Brooke thought she was a little out of place at first, but Nathan let her stay by his side. He may not have been the caring and sharing type, but he wasn't like most other gang member's reputations with girls. He didn't swear at them, tell them to go fetch his beer, and only talk to her when he needed a fk.

It wasn't like they were dating or anything like that, and frankly, Brooke wasn't sure if she'd want to date someone like him. Yeah, she was a risk taker, but she wasn't a reckless daredevil.

Besides, she'd only known him for a week, and most of that time spent only thinking about him, and nothing else.

The party was going on for a while, and Nathan seemed to pop up on her in many instances, like he was watching her. Like he was protecting her. When one guy got too touchy-feely, he seemed to pop out of the woodwork, or like the time a guy passed a joint into her hands.

Brooke had been careful not to drink too much this time, getting drunk in a place like this was probably the last thing she wanted to do right now.

But, apparently she had been buzzed enough to lose her balance. She noticed her lack of physical equilibrium when she fell backwards, and whacked the back of her head on someone else's. Rubbing her head, yet not turning around, she realized that she must have bumped into a girl, otherwise her head would have collided with a chest. Or, it was Tim.

When she turned around, the floored expression on her face was utterly reflected in the other girl's face.

"Brooke? What the hell are you doing here?" the other girl asked.


End file.
